Dragon Eclipse
by Akaluan
Summary: A single mistake, that's all it took to shatter Ishida Uryuu's world around him. A mistake coated in metallic blood and desperation to win... no, to survive. Now burdened with the expectations of everyone, Uryuu must forge his own path while trying to relearn exactly who he is. Invade Hueco Mundo Arc divergence, eventual Time Travel
1. A Mistake Coated in Blood

**Disclaimer:** Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and those people/companies that publish Bleach. I own nothing except my meagre attempts at playing in his sandbox.

Welcome to my first attempt at a long-term story outside of the month of hell known as NaNoWriMo. Many thanks go out to Tremor230 for putting up with being a sounding board and encouragement through the first bit of this, especially when I kept dropping off the face of the planet and letting life get in the way of actually writing.

 **Warnings** : Pretty much everybody's mouth, described violence (it IS Bleach, after all), mostly canon up to the fight with Butterfly-Aizen then kiss canon goodbye. Also unbetaed

( _Everything's green_ ) - Subconscious flow of thoughts  
( _*Why is everything green?*_ ) - Uryuu actively thinking  
(*Because it is.*) - Ichigo actively thinking  
( ***Who th'hell cares?!*** ) - Shiro (Hichigo/Hollow Ichigo/True Zangetsu, however you want to name him) actively thinking  
( _*Peace, hollow.*_ ) - Old Man Zangetsu actively thinking

* * *

 _Nine, ten..._

Uryuu leapt out of the way of another foolish Arrancar, not even pausing in his movements as he released a rain of arrows that skewered the little thing and shattered the support pillar behind it. A quick check of the reiatsu in the air told him that he was getting closer to where that fool Kurosaki was fighting.

 _Eleven..._

Another pillar shattered as he raced past. The one behind it cracked but didn't fail. Pivoting on a heel to face the way he came, Uryuu fired another volley at the cracked pillar even as he kept moving.

 _Twelve, thirteen..._

The ceiling above and floor below were groaning in warning, weakened and waiting to fail at a moment's fatal misstep. Floors upon floors of weight was held in a precarious balance upon a few cracked pillars. It added another piece of data that he had to keep track of: where to step, where he could not, where a strike would send the whole area tumbling down, where it would not. Hopefully this effort would be useful when he made it to where Kurosaki was fighting... and hopefully the fool didn't accidentally trigger the whole thing with one of his giant attacks.

Another leap, another floor. _There, there, there._ Three pillars aligned such that he could shatter them with a single volley. He gathered power from the air around him and _sent it out_ , a wave of black-flecked pale blue arrows sweeping the pillars away as if they never existed.

 _Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen..._

It worried him, the color of his arrows. His powers didn't seem to be working the _same_ as before. The reishi from Hueco Mundo seemed... less slimy, less _anathema_ to him, and he found himself drawing upon the spilling reiatsu of the Espada above without much problem. What had that damn Shinigami done to him this time? What had he been infected with?

He could not waste time worrying.

Uryuu paused in his race to the top, hardening the reishi beneath his feet to stand in midair just below the ceiling. Reiatsu crashed down on him from above: Kurosaki's massive, uncontrolled torrent battled with a much more refined flow; Inoue's peaceful current was nearly drowned out by both, but he could still feel the fear threading through it; two tiny specks were rising, flickering in and out against the pressure of another Arrancar.

"Let's see," he muttered to himself, as he allowed his bow to fade back to reishi and took the time to scrutinize the mine that shady Shinigami had given him. "He said to just press it to a surface and press the green button."

Uryuu's eyes narrowed in annoyance, and he felt a headache coming on. There _was_ no 'green button' on the damn thing, or at least not that he could see. It was just a large, smooth blue gem set into the center of a silver five-point star, nothing green about it in the slightest. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Uryuu slammed the mine into the ceiling, feeling it give beneath his palm-

 _ **Click.**_

"What..?" Pulling his hand away, he saw what had happened. The silver points of the mine had latched onto the ceiling, and the blue gem, which had sunk down under the pressure of his hand, had turned green and was now pulsing slowly like a heart.

He was going to _kill_ Kurotsuchi Mayuri when he saw that damn Shinigami next!

"What? **I can't hear ya!** " A loud, obnoxious voice came through the ceiling near the outer wall. Perhaps this was Yammy? Even if not, the Arrancar sure had a set of lungs on him.

One of the tiny specks had flickered out, another was flickering out. Inoue was terrified. Kurosaki was frustrated. Whatever was happening above him, he needed to get up there as quickly as he could.

Summoning up his bow once more - and ignoring the black flecks that appeared within the pale blue - he aimed at the outer wall and blasted a hole through it with a thick volley of black-flecked arrows. Taking the new exit at a run, he darted through just in time to a see a giant fist punch through the wall a floor above and drop a body from its grip

"Lame," the giant grumbled.

"Wait!" Inoue cried from inside the tower, causing the giant to turn away from the hole he had punched and begin to move towards the weakened area.

He would only have one chance at this.

"Yo, Ulquiorra! You won't mind if I kill this bitch, too, will ya?" the giant shouted across the battlefield at the other Espada.

"Hold it!" Kurosaki shouted back, but the sound of clashing swords assured Uryuu that the other was too busy to actually interfere.

Form a platform. Breath in. Crouch. Leap. Up and across, gather reishi, form and aim and... _there!_

Uryuu's eyes latched onto the form of the giant that had punched a hold through the wall, and in that microsecond of target recognition he fired his arrow. It _thunked_ solidly into the giant's shoulder, sending the Arrancar stumbling forward as Uryuu landed on the broken wall and jumped down to the floor.

"Ishida!" Kurosaki shouted across at him, equal parts warning and welcome and command, but still unable to pull free of his adversary.

Behind him, Uryuu could feel the giant pulling himself back to his feet, but was unconcerned. The mine that he had placed was now between him and the giant, and if _that_ didn't take care of the problem, the giant was standing atop the weakened portion of the tower.

" **You little shit!** " the giant roared as he wound up and began to charge towards Uryuu. " **Where the hell did you come from?!** "

Uryuu glanced over his shoulder at the giant and smirked at it, fully confident in the trap he had placed. "I guess a shot like that wouldn't go all the way through, huh... You're pretty tough, after all. However, I'd be careful if I were you..."

His smirk grew wider as the floor beneath the giant _exploded_ , sending rubble flying every which way. He turned his head away so as to not be hit in the face with any debris flung up, and used that moment to finish his sentence as tauntingly as he could, "I've put down an anti-Arrancar mine that some shady scientist gave me."

It was nice to know that Kurotsuchi Mayuri, despite being creepy as hell and far too fascinated with turning people into test subjects, was capable of producing things that worked so nicely. No matter what Uryuu's opinion on the Shinigami was, he could still admire the man's results when they produced such a spectacular boom aimed at his enemies.

In front of him, Kurosaki and Ulquiorra had paused in their fighting, both staring at the burning body of Yammy behind him as it fell through the floor.

"Damn it, you little shit..." Yammy snarled from where he hung, one hand clenched tight on the edge of the floor.

"I heard you all the way from down below," Uryuu commented absently as he turned to examine the result of the mine. It was _glorious_. He wondered if Kurotsuchi had any more of those. "You're that 'Yammy' that Szayel Apollo was talking about, aren't you?"

"Haah?! So what if I-"

"I pity you," he interrupted, not even bothering with whatever foolishness the hothead was going to rant about next. His right hand rose, black-specked bow flickering into existence in a heartbeat, arrow forming and releasing in another. "If I hadn't shown up, you could've caused all the trouble you wanted."

Smugly, he watched his arrow impact the floor and shatter it a few inches from Yammy's fingers, sending the giant Arrancar into free-fall as he lost his final hold on safety.

His bow faded away, leaving his, thankfully unchanged, Quincy cross dangling about his wrist. "That's just _mala suerte_. Sorry. On my way up here, I shattered as many support pillars on the floors below as I could. You'll fall right through to the bottom."

Yammy's scream faded into the distance as Uryuu walked away from the hole and towards Kurosaki.

Kurosaki fixed him with a look, questions in his eyes. "Ishida..."

"What? Questions in the middle of a battle? How reckless of you." Uryuu glanced at Ulquiorra, who stood a ways behind Kurosaki, and judged that he could take the time to speak. "What do you want to know? I was cured by Kurotsuchi Mayuri. He healed Abarai first, so that's why I'm late. I got that mine I planted on the ceiling of the floor below from him, too. If an Arrancar comes within reach of its reiatsu sensor, it'll explode. Anything else you want to know?"

A spark of mischief lit in Kurosaki's eyes, and that perpetual frown flicked upwards at the edges into something that was not quite a smirk and not quite a smile, but something that just _screamed_ amusement at Uryuu's sake.

"I wasn't gonna ask you anything in the first place, you're the one who started babbling away just to show off." Kurosaki rebutted, the amusement in his posture only growing as Uryuu's frustration at the teasing grew. It all drained away just as quickly as it appeared, however, replaced by the single-minded focus Uryuu was accustomed to seeing out of Kurosaki in mid-combat. As it did, Kurosaki turned his back on Uryuu and refocused on Ulquiorra across from him. "Take care of Inoue. If her Rikka can't withstand my reiatsu, protect her with your own body if you have to."

Uryuu's frustration at the teasing drained away as quickly as Kurosaki's amusement had. He'd figure out how to get back at the other later, but for now he needed to focus. Kurosaki was trusting him with Inoue's safety, and he would do everything in his power to shield her. "You don't have to tell me that."

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Ulquiorra. This is it. I'm going to show you what you came here to see." Kurosaki reached up to his face with his left hand, reiatsu gathering and pulsing around his body as he focused. "My Hollow."

Uryuu clenched his fists and moved to stand between Kurosaki and Inoue, and the waves of reiatsu broke across his body and tried to crush him to the floor. The deep blue that threaded through Kurosaki's black bankai reiatsu bled to red, as the feeling of _Shinigami_ faded and _Hollow_ began to rise.

They watched, Uryuu and Inoue, as waves of reiatsu crashed down and flooded the floor. As Kurosaki lunged forward, blade coated with power, and _struck_. As the wave of power sent the Arrancar through the wall and into the open air beyond. As Kurosaki followed after, blade raised to strike again.

A bright flash of power sent the two of them running towards the hole that Kurosaki had made in the wall. Uryuu frowned faintly as he scanned the sky, searching for the two combatants but seeing neither.

"Kurosaki-kun!" Inoue yelped, her gaze fixed on the sky overhead.

Uryuu followed her gaze upwards, then stared in shock at what he saw. Through the peaceful clouds and blue sky, a hole had been torn that showed the lightless sky of Hueco Mundo.

"There's... a hole in the sky... So the whole time, that sky wasn't real..?" Uryuu whispered in shock, as he stared at the hole in what he had been sure was a real sky. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Inoue's worried gaze, as she stared upward. "Inoue-san."

She turned to him, eyes bright with worry and barely restrained fear. He was glad she was all right, but... he wasn't going to say a thing. Not yet. Not now, when she was so fixated on Kurosaki's fate.

"Don't worry, Kurosaki's going to win," he tried to reassure her, putting as much confidence in his voice as he could. But he knew, deep in his heart, that it was nothing but empty words - neither he nor Kurosaki had fought an enemy _this_ powerful yet, not and walked away with a decisive victory. Until Kurosaki managed to pull his traditional miracle out of thin air, the fate of this battle was still undecided.

In the meantime, Uryuu pulled at the lingering reiatsu in the air, drawing it inward and gathering it together. Again he felt that oddity, as even the reiatsu of the Arrancar came easily to his call and meshed smoothly into the rest of the gathered power. It coiled in his core, heavy and waiting, like a shadow seen out of the corner of one eye and given monstrous form by the imagination.

He kept his face impassive, even as he internally lashed out at that shadowed power, purifying it with his pale blue light and purging the shadow from his core. Inoue, apparently sensing something of his actions, cast him a curious look, but turned her attention back to the hole in the sky as soon as he shook his head at her. It was not her problem, and he had no desire for her to fuss over him right now.

"Ah!" Inoue suddenly cried out, falling to the floor as a wave of power **crashed** down upon them.

"Inoue-san!" Uryuu moved to her side, though he could do nothing. The power was all-encompassing and pressed down upon them relentlessly. What was going on up there? It didn't feel like Kurosaki's power... did that mean Kurosaki had lost?

"Ishida-kun..." Inoue began softly, before her voice became stronger and she fixed him with pleading eyes. "Can you... can you take me up to the roof? Please..."

 _(*Somehow... somehow I knew she would ask me that,*)_ Uryuu thought as he bit the inside of his lip lightly. His gaze turned back to the hole in the sky, and for a moment he considered denying her. Considered lying. Saying he had no method to reach the hole so far above them. But another glance at her pleading eyes had his resistance crumbling.

With the power he had gathered to himself in the moments of downtime, he hardened the reishi beneath his feet and extended it outwards until it formed a platform large enough for the two of them. He held out his right hand and pulled her close as soon as she took it, before allowing the platform to begin to rise into the sky.

"This is pretty cool," she said as they rose, staring down at the world they were leaving below them.

"I used this to cross the garganta to Hueco Mundo. I only realized a short while ago that I could use it here, too," he answered, gaze fixed on the hole in the sky he was aiming for. "If I had figured it out sooner, it would've actually come in handy during some of my fights."

"Ishida-kun..."

She broke off, as an _ocean_ of black power swept over them.

"What the hell is this..?! Is this reiatsu..?" Uryuu managed to choke out, before the last of his air died in his lungs. Whatever it was, it was crushing, it was overwhelming, and it _sang_ to his senses.

Despair. Hopelessness. Wretchedness.

It told him to give up. To give in. To lie down and die because _that was all he could do_.

"This is... this is bad," Inoue forced out, sweat breaking out on her face as she labored for breath. "We have to hurry!"

Uryuu grit his teeth and forced his lungs to take a breath, forced his shaking body to still, the platform beneath their feet to firm up and rise faster. He forced himself to pull at the ocean of power in the air in order to fuel the platform, even as the use of it began to taint his core, swirls of black invading his pale blue like dye in water.

Sounds of battle and destruction grew louder and louder as they approached the hole; his worry grew larger and larger as even the shrinking distance did nothing to reveal Kurosaki's reiatsu. It seemed to take an eternity to cross the distance, as he struggled against the crushing ocean, but finally, _finally_ they made it through the hole and onto the top of the dome.

"I can't feel Kurosaki's reiatsu.. where is he?" Uryuu frantically looked around, senses blurred by the ocean of power. He couldn't feel anything of his comrade ( _*my friend*_ ), and that worried him more than the overwhelming reiatsu did.

Inoue's gasp drew his attention, and he turned...

"So you came, did you? Woman."

Uryuu swallowed. That was Ulquiorra? The Arrancar looked like a devil of myth, with gigantic black wings and two huge, backswept horns that grew from his head above where his ears would have been on a human. His arms and legs were as black as his wings, his fingers were curled into cruel looking claws, and he had a long, sinuous tail nearly three times as long as he was tall.

But it was what hung from the Arrancar's tail that caused his mouth to go dry and his breath to hitch in his throat. Kurosaki dangled by his neck, his torso bare and covered in bloody lacerations, and Uryuu was struck with the image of an animal strung up to bleed dry. Even as close as they were, Kurosaki's normally ever-present reiatsu was nowhere to be felt, crushed by the overwhelming darkness of Ulquiorra's new form.

One brown eye cracked open, unfocused and filled with pain, then focused sharply on Uryuu. Determination, resolve, and - most terrifying of all - acceptance flashed through Kurosaki's gaze.

"Uryuu..." Kurosaki coughed, forcing himself to speak despite the pressure on his throat. "Protect... Inoue... Kill... Aizen..."

 _*He would make Kurosaki pay for using his name,*_ a frantic, hysterical part of Uryuu's brain decided. Because if Kurosaki could _pay_ for it, then Kurosaki would be _alive_ for him to do so!

"Kuro...saki..kun..?" Inoue breathed, eyes wide and terrified as she wavered between lunging forward and remaining as far from Ulquiorra as she could.

"Just in time to witness the death of the boy you put all your hopes into," Ulquiorra stated without emotion, as he raised one clawed hand and began to charge a cero on the tip of a finger right before Kurosaki's chest.

"Promise.. me!" Kurosaki choked out, as the attack charged, both eyes fixed on Uryuu. Pleading. Accepting his fate, but pleading that Uryuu take up the mantle of warrior and win.

Unable to force words through his throat ( _*No! Kurosaki can't_ _ **die**_ _! That's my_ _ **friend**_ _over there and_ _ **we're too young to die like this!**_ _*_ ), Uryuu nodded once. He couldn't... he wasn't capable of taking control the same way Kuro- no, _Ichigo_ , the way _Ichigo_ did. ( _*Ichigo is_ _ **going to die**_ _and_ _ **I can't do anything!**_ _*_ ) But Ichigo trusted him, placed his hopes in him, wanted him to _win_ despite everything saying it was impossible. He could never replace Ichigo ( _*I don't want to replace Ichigo!*_ ), but for his friend's sake he could attempt to take up the mantle of hero.

Ichigo's mouth curled upwards into another of those not-smiles.

" **Stop!** " Inoue screamed.

Too late. Too ineffectual.

The cero ripped through Ichigo's chest, leaving a gigantic hole, a parody of a Hollow-hole, right where his heart would have been.

Carelessly, unconcerned with the emotions he had elicited in the two, Ulquiorra hurled Ichigo's body away with his tail.

Inoue screamed in agony and took off across the dome, calling up her Shun Shun Rikka to catch the body of her crush on their shield before it could fall too far. Behind her, Uryuu took off as well, determined to keep Inoue as safe as he could.

Ulquiorra blurred in front of her, staring down at the frantic girl with his dead eyes. "Forget it. His life is already out of your hands."

Uryuu's eyes narrowed. ( _*I will not let that damn Espada take any more of my companions from me!*_ )

He leapt into the air, calling up his bow and pushing as much power as he could into a single arrow, aiming at Ulquiorra's back. The analytical part of his mind cringed at the eight blackened points of his bow, the swirls of darkness that had invaded his core showing up in an unmistakable way, but at least it still felt like his. ( _*And how long will that last, I wonder, when every time I gather power my own starts to change.*_ )

But there was no time to worry, no time to second guess himself or his skills. He reached the peak of his jump and fired upon the Espada's back, hoping to at least pull Ulquiorra's attention away from Inoue and onto him.

It worked. One wing rose and swept backwards, shattering the arrow with a mere brush and leaving nothing behind but wisps of power. Ulquiorra turned his head to fix Uryuu with a blank glower, as Inoue ducked under his left wing and raced off to where Ichigo's body had landed.

Determined to carry Ichigo's will through, Uryuu gathered as much of the black ocean as he dared and compressed it into a hail of arrows. It was not enough. It. Was. Not. _ **Enough!**_

He threw caution aside, opened himself to the tide of blackness and _pulled_ , coiling his core as tightly together as he dared in order to keep it as free from contamination as possible. The power gathered over his left shoulder, a quiver of blazing power that answered to him and not Ulquiorra! It even began to bleed to pale blue as he exerted his will over it, purged the touch of the other's reiatsu from it and making it his.

"Lichtregen!" Uryuu cried as he released the power in a flood of arrows. Dust and debris exploded up into the air, obscuring his sight of the Arrancar, and he carefully maneuvered himself to land lightly between Inoue and the last place he had seen Ulquiorra.

"Odd," Ulquiorra's voice came from the shroud of dust as it slowly faded away. "Among all of Kurosaki Ichigo's little friends, I had figured you were the most calm of the lot."

Uryuu narrowed his eyes at the sight of Ulquiorra, unharmed and unperturbed by his strike. If even a Lichtregen couldn't harm Ulquiorra, _how could he win?_ Still, he needed to protect Inoue, and for that he straightened and brought his bow to bear once more. "I am calm. And that's why I can fight you!"

Ulquiorra scoffed and blurred towards him, claws raised to strike. Uryuu leapt backwards and deflected the Arrancar's strikes with his bow, firing an arrow whenever his bow faced the other.

Strike. Block. Dodge. Strike. Duck. Again and again and again, until his arm burned and his legs threatened to cramp. He smelled blood, iron and earthen; only his, no scent of Hollow blood in the air. His breath came hard and ragged, air dragging through his throat like sandpaper.

Ulquiorra pushed him to his limit and then beyond. Forced him to fight through the threatening cramps. Forced him to continue blocking with his bow. Forced him to keep breathing, to keep firing, to keep fighting.

He drew heavily upon the reiatsu in the air, drinking in the darkness and turning it outward. Arrows formed in the air around him, lanced out to strike his foe, drove some breathing room between them. He could not stop. Would not stop. Again. More arrows, formed by will and desperation, tainted black by the power they were born of.

His core was failing. Changing. No longer pale - darker, harsher. His bow was bleeding darker, seemed to _waver_.

It distracted him. A single misstep in a dance of titans, a block when he should have dodged. Ulquiorra's prehensile tail whipped around the edge of his bow and _sliced_.

The world froze.

 **Ba-dump.**

Blood sprayed through the air.

 **Ba-dump.**

His arm...

 **Ba-dump.**

Where...

 **Ba-dump.**

 _ **His arm!**_

A clawed foot planted itself on his chest and shoved, sending him flying.

Inoue was clutching her head, kneeling before Ichigo's body.

A body that lay in a pool of metallic scented blood.

Uryuu snapped out of his shock. He scrambled, clumsy with his right arm, and pulled an anesthetic free before the pain could even truly hit. Before he could land, he stabbed the needle into his upper left arm and injected it, then tossed the empty needle away. The pinprick of pain grounded him further, centered his mind, enough that he managed to flip himself around and land properly.

He scrambled for something, anything, that would stop the bleeding from the stump of his lower left arm. He had not packed... had not planned...

Fingers closed around a pill. A memory - _"For an emergency, hmm? And tell me how it works if you survive."_ \- rose to mind. Dare he?

Dare he not?

He took it, swallowing it down without hesitation.

"Ishida-kun!" Inoue whimpered, her eyes wide and panicked and just this side of broken. And _kami_ but that hurt. He could not let her be further damaged!

Uryuu pushed himself up, determination flooding through his body. "Don't worry. I've already given myself an anesthetic and something to stop the bleeding."

He couldn't _let her_ _ **break!**_

A Seele Schneider came free in his right hand, and he tore it open with his teeth. If archery had no effect on Ulquiorra, perhaps a sword _would_. He had yet to find a hole, a weakness in the demonic Arrancar, but he could not give up. But a simple Seele Schneider wouldn't be enough. He could sense that, felt the way it dragged through the ocean of reiatsu, cutting but unable to sever. Too, he needed an advantage. He was fighting with his off-hand, adapting skills learned left-handed to his right on the fly.

Ulquiorra would destroy him.

He breathed in deeply, and with that breath pulled upon the reishi and reiatsu nearby. Ulquiorra's overwhelming void, Inoue's frantic power, the tainted reishi of Hueco Mundo, it all rushed into him and was channeled into the blade in his right hand. His core shivered, wavered, **burned** with the stress he was putting upon it. Its pale blue, already darkened by earlier, darkened further under Ulquiorra's void, shifted towards teal under Inoue's influx of golden-yellow, grew nearly black at the touch of the tainted reishi, and then... and then...

And then it **shattered** , violently and painfully. Uryuu screamed, unable to keep silent under the feeling of his core exploding through his body. A fragment of his mind, detached by shock, noted that Ichigo's body was disintegrating, crumbling into golden-yellow motes of reishi that rushed towards him, surrounding him in a tornado of bright, overwhelming power.

"Ishida-kun!" Inoue screamed again. But her voice was... distant. Faded. As if coming to him across a vast chasm.

(*Damn, Ishida. When you get in trouble, you get into it worse than me! Or do you just have a fetish for burning your powers out?*) Ichigo's voice echoed through Uryuu's mind.

Irritation flashed through his mind. He was not going to burn his powers out so soon after regaining them!

(*Heh, that's better. But still, are you just gonna sit back and let Ulquiorra hurt Inoue?*)

"No..." Uryuu groaned, sweat dripping down his face as he stared blankly into the darkness above. His fragmented core tore at his body, shredding flesh, bone, nerves; leaving nothing but agony in its wake. But... no. He couldn't just... let Inoue down like that. Let Ichigo down like that...

(*Didn't know you like me that much!*) Ichigo snarked.

"I.. do... not!" Uryuu forced out. It was not Ichigo. A dying delusion of his mind, clinging to the voice of one he looked to for strength. And that burned, ached like an open wound that his mind would do such a thing. It was enough. He. Was. Not. **_Dying!_**

( _*Abandon your fear. Look forward. Move forward and never stop. You'll age if you pull back. You'll die if you hesitate.*_ ) The voice resonated through his head, powerful and calm, urging him forward. It grounded him, centered him in the now.

( ***The hell you doing? You might not be my partner, but I'll still kill you if you stay there and do nothin!*** ) A third voice, loud and suspiciously like Ichigo's, were his friend prone to insanity.

He had no idea what his mind was doing anymore. Ichigo's voice he could understand, but these other two? What exactly had been that pill he had taken?

(*I was going to ask you about that - what the hell possessed you to take something **clown-face** gave you?* ) the Ichigo-voice asked.

"It was either that or bleed to death!" Uryuu snapped at the voice in his head. "Now **shut up!** "

He bit his lip, teeth worrying at the flesh even as he pulled with his mind, hauling at the fragments of his core with all the mental discipline he had left.

It felt like an eternity, reeling the pieces of his core back together, made more difficult by the fact that it was changed, irrevocably altered by whatever had occurred. No longer a pale blue, it was a deep emerald green, nearly black, and roiled with barely contained power that spilled everywhere. Moreover, it no longer felt purely _Quincy_ , but rather an uneasy mix of Quincy, Shinigami, and Hollow.

That Hollow nature **ate** at his very being like acid in a wound. He couldn't... it hurt... it was his but it was so _painful_ and he couldn't purge that acidic Hollow feeling and it was going to _kill him no matter what he did._

( _*Then change yourself. Remake your being, until you are reborn like the phoenix of myth,*_ ) spoke the unknown, calm voice.

"And how the hell would I do that!"

( ***Follow your damn instincts!*** ) Insane-Ichigo snapped back. ( ***Stop thinkin' so damn logically about can and can't and clinging to what you were! Let your body do what it needs!*** )

He wavered, hesitated, hovered on the edge of a precipice he could sense but not see. All the while, the Hollow nature ate at his body, testing his control as it devoured him from the inside out, aiming to finish what his shattered core had begun. Uryuu could feel his body beginning to dissolve under the pressure, becoming unmade by the nature that was so anathema to the nature of a Quincy. Quincy could not become Hollow. They became _nothing_.

There was nothing else he could do.

Gathering his resolve, he let go.

Power ripped through him again, raging through his body as his control over his core faded. Emerald power rippled under his skin, and everywhere it passed he felt changed, different, even if his skin remained pale and his clothes remained torn and bloodied. His eyes widened in shock as the green power washed through his left arm and solidified: bones and sinews, muscles and skin, until his arm was whole and unblemished once more.

And in the wake of the rush of power, he no longer felt the acidic pain of being eaten from within. The taint of Hollow in his core remained, swirled amidst the feeling of Quincy and Shinigami, but no longer at odds with his very being.

Although... it wasn't much of a core anymore. Rather, the power remained flooded throughout his body, and no matter how much he tried he could not restrain it back to that inner core he was so accustomed to. There was so much, and it was so _wild_ , bucking all his attempts at taming and restraining it.

Just... just like Ichigo's power had felt. Wild. Unrestrained. A constant pressure that one had to grow accustomed to or die under the strain.

(*Huh. I didn't know it was so odd for my power to fill my entire body. Do you think all those Shinigami Captains keep theirs in a little ball like you did?*) The Ichigo-voice wondered. (*That would explain why they could hide themselves, I guess.*)

"Ichigo? Shut up." Uryuu could feel a headache coming on. Wasn't it bad enough that he had to listen to the fool when he was alive? Now he had a voice in his head that sounded like his fallen comrade. ( _*And that infuriates me the most. Ichigo is_ _ **dead**_ _and my mind has_ _ **no right**_ _to impersonate the fool!*_ )

The whirlwind of power around him fell. Inoue was still kneeling on the dome. Ulquiorra still several yards away, blank eyes fixed upon him. But Ichigo's body... it was gone. Vanished into the swirl of power that Uryuu had pulled into himself.

His hand clenched around the Seele Schneider, lifting the emerald blade to a ready position. He channeled his guilt, his rage, his *fury* at the world; all his pain, all his fear, all his mixed emotions and *shoved* it into his arrow-turned-blade. The blade *sang* with power, with *intention*, and Uryuu intended to *fulfill* that intention.

He charged, blade held easily in his right hand, poised to strike.

Something like surprise filtered though Ulquiorra's neutral expression. Something like recognition, like understanding. His tail rose, coiled, then swept out. To knock Uryuu aside. To tear him asunder.

Uryuu didn't know which. Didn't care. His body acted on finely honed instincts that _he should not have_. His blade swept up, around, slicing through Ulquiorra's tail without resistance. The power off the edge continued, a crescent of nearly black reiatsu that ripped into the Arrancar's chest.

Dark blood splattered the ground: desolation and rot. A graveyard untended. A home abandoned. The stench of Hollow blood.

Ulquiorra leapt backwards, eyes wide and left hand pressed against the wound on his chest. "Impossible. You couldn't even nick me before, and yet..."

He shifted his stance, bringing both hands to the makeshift hilt of his 'sword'. Used the moment to get his breathing under control. "I learned early on that nothing is impossible if you spend enough time around Kurosaki."

"I see." Ulquiorra's gaze flickered to where Ichigo's body had lain, then back to Uryuu. "You absorbed him. Like a Hollow devours their prey. And like a Hollow you grew stronger. Is this the power of a Quincy?"

Uryuu's lips compressed into a grimace. Behind him, Inoue gave a broken gasp of shock. He could not answer, had no answer to give. Quincy manipulated reishi and reiatsu in the air; they altered and changed and formed the very power of their enemies against them. Even in desperation, no Quincy's core should have been so contaminated by the power as to change. Even in desperation, overcharging the Seele Schneider should have resulted in it shattering, not his core. Though power might pass through them, it never affected them.

He threw himself forward with a burst of hirenkyaku, bringing his blade to bear once more.

"Lanza del Relampago." Ulquiorra intoned as he leapt backwards once more. A lance of lightning formed in his right hand, blocking Uryuu's blade. His tail, regenerating even as he used it, lashed at Uryuu's left side.

He ducked under the tail. Knocked the lance away. Twisted and thrust. More blood. Scent of desolation.

They fought, back and forth across the dome, lance against sword. The Seele Schneider tore away fragments of the reishi lance, shredded Ulquiorra's tail again and again, ripped through his hierro. But still Ulquiorra healed. Cast aside the shredded lance and forged another anew.

The lances exploded. Fragments of undirected power that Uryuu snatched from the air and twisted into his own blade. Blood, his blood, spilled upon the ground: earth and iron, rot and must. An inhuman scent for an inhuman being.

Finally, they broke apart, wary and watchful as they paced and circled. Uryuu was pleased at how Ulquiorra bled, how his breath was quickened and his stance wary. He, too, was bleeding, was nearly panting with exertion, _but he had made the other work for it._

"Hmph. My powers lie not in attacking, but in regeneration." Ulquiorra swept his repaired tail before him. Flicked blood from his wounded arm; showed unblemished skin. "Of all the Arrancar who chose high-speed regeneration over power, I alone... I alone can fully regenerate anything but my brain and organs. I have no idea what you did to gain that power, but no amount of strength will allow you to kill me by attrition."

(*Arrogant bastard, isn't he?*) the Ichigo-voice commented. (*You'll just have to cut him into pieces then!*)

"I'm more worried about that lance," Uryuu muttered under his breath. He had seen the damage a mostly-destroyed version could create. What could a whole one do?

He feared he was about to find out.

Ulquiorra drew his arm back. Hurled the lance at him. Held his arm to the side and summoned another.

Deciding living was the better part of valour, Uryuu darted to the side as quickly as possible. Even then, he could feel it as it ripped past him. It didn't touch him, yet his right sleeve tore as if it had been hit, and a few drops of blood welled up from the scratch that had formed. In the distance behind him, an explosion tore apart the desert, the shock wave sweeping over the three of them standing atop the dome. It nearly pushed him forward a step, before he hardened his resolve and stood fast.

"I missed, hmm? Using that attack isn't easy, after all."

He could not give Ulquiorra a chance to throw another. There was no guarantee he could dodge again, and he had already seen the Arrancar summon lance after lance without tiring.

No. He could not give the other a second chance.

He blurred forward, mind focused. Seele Schneider to his left hand. Quincy bow in his right. ( _Green like the rest, like emeralds on velvet. Stretched and changed: a longbow formed from a compass rose, grip framed by two forward facing spikes. His-but-not-but-his._ )

Ulquiorra frowned. Raised his lance to defend. Tried to pinpoint Uryuu, tried to guard, tried to counter.

He failed.

Uryuu blurred into existence inches from Ulquiorra. Fired. Retreated in time to avoid the Arrancar's tail. He brought up another arrow. Less powerful than a Seele Schneider, but enough. Hopefully.

He didn't need it.

The tail-strike had been Ulquiorra's last attack. The Seele Schneider, fired at point blank, skewered him straight through the stomach and sent his body flying backwards in two pieces.

Silence descended, broken by Inoue's soft sobs and the tiny clinking of stone fragments hitting the ground. Broken by his own harsh breathing and the meaty **thump-thump** of Ulquiorra's body landing.

( ***Yeah! That showed the bastard!*** ) Insane-Ichigo cheered loudly. ( ***You might not be so bad, bow-boy!*** )

Uryuu twitched. Resolved to ignore the voices for now. Wondered if they were there to stay, fragments of his broken mind, remnants of the moment he shattered and remade himself.

Movement from Ulquiorra's upper half drew his attention. The Arrancar was still moving! Pushing himself onto his back as his lower body slowly rebuilt itself.

Uryuu sent a wary glance at the Arrancar's lower half, and was relieved to discover that nothing was occurring there. He would not have to fight two of the powerful beings, but it still caused him to worry. Was even an overpowered Seele Schneider to the torso not enough to put Ulquiorra down for good?

"How are you still moving?" Uryuu asked as he approached the downed Arrancar. The arrow remained on the string, ready to fire at a moments notice. "I thought you couldn't regenerate your organs."

"I can't." Ulquiorra stared dispassionately up at the once-Quincy. "This is nothing but a guise, a last attempt by my power to survive."

Behind him, Uryuu sensed Inoue rise to her feet and make her slow way over to them.

"Kill me." Ulquiorra commanded, green eyes fixed upon Uryuu, not looking over even as Inoue reached the two of them.

Uryuu's lips tightened. The idea of simply putting down a human-like foe outside of combat was repulsive, but... wasn't Ulquiorra already dying? Incapable of regenerating the organs Uryuu had completely vaporized with the Seele Schneider, what chance did Ulquiorra have to live?

Perhaps reading the acceptance in Uryuu's eyes, Ulquiorra nodded slightly, then shifted his gaze to Inoue. "In the end... I think I actually had some interest in you people. Are you afraid of me, woman?"

"I'm not afraid," Inoue choked out, as she knelt next to Ulquiorra. "My Shun Shun Rikka could... please..."

"No." Ulquiorra laid a hand on the one Inoue had pressed to his chest. "This is the way of things. The weak fall before the strong."

Inoue broke into renewed sobbing, and collapsed across Ulquiorra's chest. "It's not _fair!_ It's not... **_it wasn't supposed to be like this!_** "

With a grimace, Uryuu lowered his bow, allowing it and the arrow he had gathered to dissipate back into reishi. No matter his reluctant acceptance of Ulquiorra's request, he would not be so heartless as to shoot the other while Inoue was clinging to him. It didn't matter anyway. Already, the Arrancar's wings were breaking into dark motes of reishi; the skeletal legs vanishing more quickly than they were forming; the arm still on the ground disintegrating as he watched.

Ulquiorra's eyes met Uryuu's one last time, and the Quincy saw understanding deep within those formerly emotionless eyes. As the other's body faded into reishi, and the dark sea of reiatsu faded like fog before the sun, Uryuu placed a comforting hand on Inoue's shoulder.

"Ishida-san... why?" Inoue turned her devastated gaze upon him, pleading with him to make everything better. Pleading with him to make it all go away, to say it was a dream, a nightmare, that it was time to wake up and that everything would be better...

But he could not. If it was a nightmare, he, too, was trapped within it. If there was a way to make it all better, he could find no answer. Around him was desolation, the dome torn and fractured from their fight, splattered with blood and sweat and tears. Those marks were the only remaining evidence that two of the four who had come out here had ever existed outside their memories.

 _What could he possibly say to Sado? To Kuchiki? To Abarai?_ _ **To Ichigo's own father?**_

 _What could he say to_ _ **himself**_ _?_

* * *

Well, there's the first chapter done! I hope you all liked it. At the moment, I plan to update this story on the last Tuesday of every month, to give me time to keep writing and editing chapters in advance. If I reach the end of this story in its draft, and get the chapters all done and ready to go, I'll start posting faster than that.

Don't hesitate to ask if you have questions, and constructive criticism is always welcome. If someone wants to beta, give me a note and we'll discuss it to see if we can get along.

Til next time, ja ne!


	2. What Did He Do To Me!

**Disclaimer:** Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and those people/companies that publish Bleach. I own nothing except my meagre attempts at playing in his sandbox.

 **Warnings** : Pretty much everybody's mouth, described violence (it IS Bleach, after all), mostly canon up to the fight with Butterfly-Aizen then kiss canon goodbye. Also unbetaed

 **Replies:** Enjali asked how Ichigo became stuck in Uryuu's soul. As this answer does feed directly into a bit of my headcanon about how the Quincy work, I decided to copy my answer here as well for everyone to see.

Kurotsuchi Mayuri decided to do a bit of quick experimenting on Uryuu when he was healing him (more than in canon) and then gave him a pill "for emergencies" that he really didn't explain. What he wanted to see was what would happen to a Quincy if the line between them and Hollows was erased. If Uryuu hadn't needed to take that pill, his body would have stabilized soon after leaving Hueco Mundo and nothing would have happened. If he had taken the pill but not tried to exceed his limits, his nature would have changed slightly, but nothing dramatic or even really noticeable (he would have found it easier to pull reishi and reiatsu in, even to the point of pulling it straight from his enemies instead of just in the air, and his reiatsu color would keep fluctuating until he finally relearned control over "what is him" vs "what is outsider"). But the combination of pill and exceeding his limits with a mostly-dead body next to him (Ichigo was in the process of the same full Hollowfication as in canon, so he wasn't really dead-dead) meant that he acted similar to a Hollow in that single instant, with the end result being Ichigo (and all his sub-voices) inside Uryuu's head. As the change stabilized with the 'remaking' that Uryuu put himself through in order to survive Hollow reiatsu invading his reiryoku, he won't be getting any new head-friends.

( _Everything's green_ ) - Subconscious flow of thoughts  
( _*Why is everything green?*_ ) - Uryuu actively thinking  
(*Because it is.*) - Ichigo actively thinking  
( ***Who th'hell cares?!*** ) - Shiro actively thinking  
( _*Peace, hollow.*_ ) - Old Man Zangetsu actively thinking

* * *

Ulquiorra's reiatsu dissipated, unable to remain now that the Arrancar was fragments of reishi in the air. The lack of oppressive pressure was a relief, releasing a strain that Uryuu had only peripherally been aware of carrying.

The relief was short lived. His senses, driven into overdrive by the sudden release of pressure and his subconscious need to assure himself of the others' well-being, spread across the dome and down through the hole into Las Noches. Inoue was at his side, physically fine if emotionally shattered. Rukia's ice sharp reiatsu seemed fine, but…

(*Chad and Renji are hurt!*) the Ichigo-voice exclaimed. (*C'mon, we gotta get to them!*)

"We need to move," Uryuu said, as he swept Inoue up into his arms and bolted back to the hole Ulquiorra had made. His urgency gave his feet wings, driving him to speeds he had never before achieved. In his mind, Sado and Abarai's flickering reiatsu signatures were like candles guttering out, each flicker made his own heart skip a beat in terror.

"What..?"

"Sado-san and Abarai are badly injured," Uryuu answered, his voice grim. ( _Not again_ _— won_ _'t let it happen again —_ _ **can**_ _ **'t**_ _let it happen again!_ )

Inoue released a strangled cry of refusal, and wrapped her arms tightly about his shoulders as Uryuu pushed himself faster. He plunged through the hole in the dome's roof without a second thought, allowing gravity to pull the two of them down in an uncontrolled fall. Uryuu grimly compressed his reiryoku inside his body and built a wall of reishi around them in order to survive the impact that was to come.

The ground shattered beneath him as he landed, throwing up a plume of dust and debris that shot high into the air and obscured everything around him. He didn't, couldn't, let that stop him. Tracing Sado's thread, Uryuu was moving again before the dust had more than a second to settle on him.

"Heal him," Uryuu ordered Inoue as he dropped her unceremoniously next to Sado's unconscious body. He had already turned away, fixating his gaze on the giant, on _Yammy_ ( _his fault, his fault, his fault!_ ) that was the cause of this destruction.

(*That's Rukia he's holding!*)

Spurred on by the Ichigo-voice's rising panic, Uryuu launched into movement, leaving another plume of dust behind him. His right hand extended out to his side, and reishi coalesced into his new bow. He had no clear shot. Needed a clear shot. Couldn't draw attention to Sado and Inoue!

"Soukatsui!" Rukia shouted, as a great blue flame raced from her hand and impacted the giant's head.

"Oooow!" Yammy whined, as he brought his free hand to his face and rubbed at it. "You little— that frickin' hurt! Shit that smarts! It hurts so much… **I think you made my hand slip!** "

Uryuu's goal shifted the second Yammy hurled Rukia at the ground. The bow dissipated, the reishi that made it up swirling around and into him as he pushed himself faster, _faster_ , and lunged…

Rukia's body slammed into his torso, sending both of them skidding backwards as Uryuu struggled to dump the kinetic energy safely. Every fragment of reishi he could command was used to soften the blow, to dissipate the force, to allow both of them to survive with minimal injury. Because while he didn't particularly care for Rukia, _Ichigo_ had, and _Ichigo_ wanted him to take up the mantle of protector.

The dust of their impact swirled away, banished by a careless pulse of his heightened reiatsu. Rukia knelt on the ground behind him, where he had placed her after they slid to a stop, and before him was Yammy.

"You!" Yammy's face contorted into a furious expression, and he bared his teeth in a snarl of rage.

Uryuu smirked, putting on a show of nonchalance as he idly pushed his glasses back in place with his right hand. "I see you managed to survive. Did you enjoy your trip?"

"Ishida..?" Rukia asked, her voice soft and puzzled. "Where's Ichigo?"

His shoulders stiffened, and he knew his flat, dead voice would give it all away. "Ask Inoue. She's over there healing Sado-san."

"You're dead, you damn four-eyes!" Yammy screamed, then opened his mouth to charge a cero.

He couldn't let that finish. Bringing his bow to bear — ignoring Rukia's gasp of shock at the color of his reiatsu — he sent a rain of over-powered arrows straight at Yammy's opened mouth.

The explosion that resulted sent the giant staggering backwards a single step, though Uryuu didn't believe for an instant that had truly wounded the other. Instead, he grabbed Rukia about her waist and bolted, just in time to dodge Yammy's furious strike. He dropped the Shinigami next to Inoue, nodded once to the now conscious Sado, then flickered away back to face the giant.

This couldn't stand. The Arrancar had to be pulled away from his wounded comrades. Unlike Ichigo, he had no delusions of being capable of defending everyone from such an enemy.

(*Hey!*)

Summoning up his bow once more, Uryuu leapt into action. A quick flash of hirenkyaku brought him to Yammy's back, putting the giant between him and his comrades. He darted from side to side, unleashing a hail of arrows as he kept backing away. Drawing Yammy further afield. Hoping there were no other enemies to take advantage of his distance.

"Get back here, you damn coward!" Yammy snarled as he chased Uryuu.

A small misstep. A flicker of hirenkyaku just a shade too short put him within reach of the enraged Arrancar. Before he could correct, Yammy's clenched fist lashed out at him, aiming to knock him from the sky.

Instincts warred in Uryuu's mind, causing him to partially freeze in place with one hand raised towards Yammy. His Quincy training screamed _dodge!_ , yet his body didn't, wouldn't move.

He didn't want to die!

( ***Aww, quit bein** **' such a pussy, bow-boy! Look, see? Nothin' ta worry yer damn pansy ass over!*** ) Insane-Ichigo chided, his voice giddy with battle-lust.

The hit hadn't come.

Uryuu cracked his eyes open and warily looked over, only for his eyes to widen in shock. Yammy's gigantic fist was halted in mid-air, trembling with exertion as the Arrancar strained to complete his strike. Uryuu's small hand, barely large enough to cover even a quarter of one of Yammy's knuckles, held the other back with no sign of strain.

It was the sort of feat Ichigo had performed many times in the past.

Recovering his mental balance, Uryuu pivoted to slam the two forward-facing spikes of his new bow deep into Yammy's wrist. As the Arrancar snarled in pain and began to withdraw his hand, Uryuu fired as many powerful arrows as he could at point blank.

Yammy _howled_ , yanking his arm back and cradling it against his chest. Blood dripped, desolation and rot. Falling from the giant's fingers, running down his arm and staining the ground red where it fell.

"Who said I was fleeing?" Uryuu rebutted, as he leapt backwards and formed a reishi platform beneath his feet. He took a breath, centering himself and drawing upon as much reishi and reiatsu in the air as he could. It came easily, eagerly, to his call, forming a quiver of dark emerald power over his left shoulder. "I merely drew you away from the others. **Lichtregen!** "

Arrows raced from his bow, raining down upon Yammy in a hail of power that didn't cease until he had exhausted every bit of reishi he had managed to gather. Wisps of dissipating power obscured his view of the giant, but he could still feel the other's reiatsu, strong and furious.

( ***Yeah! Get** **'im, bow-boy!*** ) Insane-Ichigo cheered. ( ***Rip** **'im ta shreds!*** )

( _*That was an impressive bit of manipulation, I will admit,*_ ) concluded the unknown voice. ( _*However, I doubt it truly managed to injure your foe.*_ )

"I know," Uryuu grumbled, as he flickered to another part of the battlefield and began to regather reishi to him.

(*Hey, if the reishi in the air is what limits that attack, then can't you just keep moving while you fire?*) asked the Ichigo-voice. (*That'd let you keep it up, wouldn't it?*)

"That's…" Uryuu paused in his protest. He wanted to say it was impossible, that Lichtregen couldn't be used like that, but could he really? Slowly, he changed what he was going to say. "… difficult. It requires a large amount of focus to shape and fire. It's why I gather everything I need before I strike. To combine movement, gathering, and firing into one action would be… difficult."

"Who the hell you talkin' to, bastard?!" Yammy yelled as he lunged forward, mouth gaping like a tiger about to pounce.

A burst of hirenkyaku. Yammy's teeth pierced a building instead of Uryuu's body. The giant's blood scattered across the sands, glittering droplets of rotten ruby. Wounds littered Yammy's head and body, blood running sluggish and wounds already beginning to seal over.

"Bleh," Yammy grumbled, as he spat out chunks of rubble. "Fuck that tastes nasty. C'mere, shithead! Face the Cero Espada, Yammy Riyalgo, and tremble! There ain't nobody stronger than me, and I'll prove it to you! Just. Stand. **Still!** "

(*Look out!*)

Energy flared around one of Yammy's fists. Raced towards him the moment Yammy swung. Caught flat-footed, Uryuu brought his bow in front of him. He shifted to stand sideways to Yammy, emerald bow flaring with power, a makeshift shield against whatever it was.

"How's that, huh?" Yammy gloated, as the attack dissipated. "That's no cero, pal, it's a bala! Just what the hell do you think you can do against an attack like that?"

Uryuu moved his bow to the side, eyes hard as he stared down at the Arrancar who had _dared_ _…_ His mantle was shredded to nothing, disintegrated in the flash of power. His right sleeve was missing, and his right pant leg was shredded and shortened, but otherwise… otherwise, he was unharmed. But his mantle was _gone!_

His bow shone like the sun, so bright the green faded to white, and the pressure swirling off of it was enough to tease his bangs. The reiatsu remaining from the bala yielded to his abilities, swirling apart and coalescing into yet another quiver of power.

This time, however, he kept gathering every last scrap, compressing it down again and again until it became near solid.

"Do against you..?" Uryuu growled, as he brought his sun-like bow to bear. "I intend to shred you into so many pieces, even Inoue-san would be unable to put you back together. _**Lichtregen!**_ "

Yammy lunged, arm pulled back to strike.

His lichtregen produced fewer arrows this time, so compressed and restrained was the power. But the lack of numbers was made up by their size — nearly double his normal; each impact rocked Yammy back a fraction, each arrow tore a bit deeper into Yammy's chest and shoulders. The giant's body became cratered like the moon, blood falling freely to stain the sands red.

But it didn't stop Yammy's charge. Howling in rage, the giant swung his fist forward to strike.

Sweat broke out on Uryuu's forehead, plastering his bangs to his skin. Caught up in the actions of shaping and firing the arrows, he was trapped in place. Trapped between Yammy's attack at his front and the time bomb of power on his back. He moved backwards, but slowly, oh so slowly, unable to call forth a large enough hirenkyaku while keeping control of the lichtregen.

Too slow. Too slow!

"Hadou thirty three: Soukatsui."

Yammy's arm was blasted to the side as the pale blue fire slammed into the wound already present on his wrist. His fist rushed past Uryuu, close enough to feel the displaced air.

"Wha—what the hell? Show yourself!" Yammy began searching for the new attacker, attention diverted from Uryuu. The Arrancar suddenly howled in agony, as one of his legs was severed from his body. " **What the fuck!** **"**

"Hey! What the hell?" Zaraki snarled at his fellow Captain, as he flicked Yammy's blood from his sword. "Who said you could attack first? Get outta my way."

"What are you saying? I arrived first." Kuchiki Byakuya answered as he stepped forward, not even looking over at Zaraki. "But I suppose I can allow you the privilege of taking care of this beast."

Zaraki scoffed, flicked a disinterested glance at Uryuu as he landed to the left of the two Captains, then turned to Yammy and charged off.

Kuchiki, however, fixed a dispassionate gaze on Uryuu for a moment, then glanced at the area around them. Uryuu was sure the man was searching out Ichigo's reiatsu, especially when a tiny frown formed on Kuchiki's face and he fixed his attention back on Uryuu.

"Quincy, where is Kurosaki Ichigo?"

Zaraki's combat with Yammy was suddenly fascinating. Uryuu couldn't meet the Captain's expectant look, or bear to see the fury and blame that was likely to overtake the man's cold expression when he realized what had happened. He didn't care about Shinigami. Wanted them dead. Wanted them to stop being useless wastes of space.

Kuchiki Byakuya had meant something to Ichigo.

"I… see." Kuchiki Byakuya said softly. "My condolences for your loss."

Uryuu couldn't help turning to search the man's face, hunting for any hint of fury or blame. But if it was there, it was hidden behind Kuchiki's standard cold mask.

(*Hah! I knew Byakuya liked me!*) the Ichigo-voice crowed in triumph, making Uryuu twitch in reaction.

"I will fulfill Kurosaki's request to the best of my abilities," Uryuu said, carefully sidestepping the 'dying' part. He couldn't afford to truly acknowledge that just yet. Didn't have the time to break down. Better to delude himself for the moment, pretend that Ichigo was just _critically wounded_ , beyond Inoue's ability to heal in an instant.

He could feel the cracks forming in his mind.

He could also feel Kuchiki's disbelief, a faint whisper in the man's reiatsu that he could only sense because he stood not three feet from the other. Over what, Uryuu was unsure — was it over the idea that Ichigo had fallen? Or the idea that a Quincy of all people had agreed to assist a Shinigami, even a substitute one, in a last request?

"I see." Kuchiki's gaze swept over him, lingering on the emerald bow that was still alight in Uryuu's hand. His eyes narrowed faintly in contemplation, though what was going on behind those cold eyes Uryuu was uncertain. "If that is the case, then you should return to the Living World as quickly as possible."

(*What? No! We need to take Yammy down so it can't hurt the others!*)

Uryuu hesitated, spurred by the frantic edge in the Ichigo-voice. He risked a glance over at the combat going on a ways away from them, judging the combat as best he could. It appeared that Zaraki had everything under control, and if he didn't, wouldn't Kuchiki jump in as well, no matter how much animosity was apparently between the two Captains?

"We are perfectly capable of managing such a simple foe on our own," Kuchiki said. "Your place is in the Living World."

"And how am I to cross back over?" Uryuu asked. "Urahara-san was the one to send us here, and I assume that he needs to open it from his side again in order to—"

"My, my… Urahara this, Urahara that. I'm getting sick of hearing that name." Kurotsuchi Mayuri's annoying voice broke in, as the creep Shinigami approached them with a covered wagon at his side. "Oh look! It's the Quincy Specimen! Hooo— what a change you've gone through! I'll admit, I didn't expect you to survive, but since you have, I simply _must_ take you back with me—"

Uryuu snapped. _This bastard_ was the reason he had changed! The reason he had voices in his head, and strange instincts, and _green reiatsu!_ Everything in his head aligned, all three voices gone silent and focused on a single goal.

He moved without thought, flashing across the distance between them and lashing out with a vicious left hook. Kurotsuchi went flying, crashing through a wall and disappearing into a cloud of dust. Uryuu gathered himself, prepared to chase after, to utterly _destroy_ the bastard—

A hand grabbed his left arm, strong and unyielding, and a body interposed itself between him and his goal. Kuchiki's grey eyes fixed on him, and Uryuu was surprised to see understanding deep within the outwardly dispassionate gaze.

"Enough. Save the infighting for later. You have a duty to your town," Kuchiki reprimanded him gently.

Uryuu grit his teeth and looked away, but did release his bow and let the battle-ready tension drain from his body. He could see the wisdom in the Captain's words, no matter how little he liked it.

Kuchiki released his arm as soon as the Captain was sure he wouldn't race off to continue fighting. In a low voice, barely loud enough for him to hear, Kuchiki said, "I will inform Yamamoto-soutaicho of what has occurred. Experiments like this are not permitted by Soul Society, no matter what Kurotsuchi-taicho wishes to believe."

"Hmm… a feisty specimen! Splendid!" Kurotsuchi exclaimed as he landed next to the cart again. "I cannot wait to experiment upon you further!"

"Kurotsuchi-taicho, that is enough. The Soutaicho will be informed of what you have been up to while here," Kuchiki broke in, his voice as cold as his sister's zanpakutou.

"Fu… ruining my fun," Kurotsuchi grumbled, before he shrugged and turned to the covered wagon. "Nevertheless! I have managed to procure another precious item, and while I was at it, I managed to analyze the structure of garganta."

"Does this mean you can create one, then?" Kuchiki prompted the scientist, when it was obvious he had paused for dramatic effect.

"Yes, and flawlessly at that! I succeeded in creating a semi-permanent form!" Kurotsuchi cackled madly, rubbing his hands together as his wild eyes took on a glint of calculation. "I can already see the vexed look on that man's face! How could I not be delighted? Even having to let my newest experimental subject go is a mere bother compared to this! Get it ready, Nemu!"

"As you wish, Mayuri-sama," Nemu responded, as she began to unload the way and set something up in a clear area a bit away.

"You expect me to walk through something _he_ made?" Uryuu spat, clenching his fists in anger. He could feel both versions of Ichigo agree with him, their own anger looping through his mind and feeding his own. If Kuchiki hadn't rested a hand on his shoulder, fingers tightening to the point of pain in warning, Uryuu was certain he would have attacked Kurotsuchi again.

" _Silence_ ," Kurotsuchi commanded. "Subjects don't get to talk. This is an experiment, and you're subject number one. That's how it's going to be, whether you like it or not!"

" _ **Experiment?!**_ " Uryuu was going to _slaughter_ that crazy clown the instant he had a chance!

Kuchiki's fingers dug deeper into his shoulder, to the point where Uryuu was certain a hand-shaped bruise was already forming on his skin. The pain did little more than temporarily ground him in the now, with his building rage held at bay by the smallest of margins.

"You need not worry. I will go with you."

That voice, so dangerously polite, snapped Uryuu out of his rage the way Kuchiki's restraining hand had not. He knew that voice, like ice down his spine, and knew _exactly_ what she could do when annoyed. Schooling his expression into something polite, he turned slightly and inclined his head to the Captain of the Fourth, "Unohana-san."

Sensing that Uryuu was unlikely to strike out in rage anymore, Kuchiki withdrew his hand and took a few polite steps to the side. He inclined his head slightly when Uryuu shot him a glance of thanks, but otherwise kept his face and body neutral.

"Volunteering yourself for an experiment? That's nothing short of insane, my dear Fourth Captain."

"Oh? But I trust you, Kurotsuchi-taicho," Unohana smiled frostily at the other Captain, her voice never changing from its polite tone. "I have no fear that this will be a success. After all, to come all this way and get your hands on that Arrancar scientist's data, only to fail in the end… well, it would certainly give Urahara Kisuke-san quite a laugh, wouldn't it?"

Kurotsuchi sighed and shifted his gaze to Nemu, judging her progress in assembling the machine. "That is true. And by 'I analyzed it,' I of course mean that I could close it off while you're half-way there if I wished!"

"It wouldn't surprise me," Unohana replied, her smile becoming frostier and the barest edge of a hannya mask appearing behind her. When Kurotsuchi took a step back, an uncomfortable expression on his face, Unohana turned away from him. "Isane-san!"

"Hai!" Isane replied, as she jumped down from a ledge and trotted up to her Captain's side.

"You are to remain here and assist the other Captains." When she got a nod and a salute from Isane, she turned her attention to Uryuu. "Well then, shall we go, Ishida-san?"

Uryuu looked over at Isane, then glanced back towards where he had left Inoue. He knew that, as soon as Inoue was through with healing the others, she would begin to sink into either depression or shock. Perhaps having another woman nearby, one who had only peripherally known Ichigo and who was the Fukutaicho of the healers, would help keep Inoue moving until they all had time to gather and mourn together. "Kotetsu-san, Sado-san, Abarai, and Kuchiki Rukia are back there being healed by Inoue-san. I would be… grateful if you could check on them."

Perhaps something in his words caused her to understand the true meaning behind his request, because her gaze turned softer and she nodded. "I will. Be safe, Ishida-san."

That sorted, Uryuu turned to the two pillars that were set up, where both Nemu and Kurotsuchi stood, connected to large black orbs from which grew a crack in the sky.

"I won't bother giving you an explanation," Kurotsuchi said. "Just go back the way you came, and you'll get to the real world."

Uryuu barely acknowledged the crazy scientist. The embers of his rage were beginning to rise again, and this time he doubted it would be Kuchiki that held him back — rather, he suspected he would face Unohana's terrifying focus if he managed to lose his newfound temper. And as much as Kurotsuchi pissed him off… Unohana was _much_ more terrifying.

Being ignored seemed to amuse the man, however, and his creepy smile grew larger. "Just watch your feet. One wrong step, and you'll slip into a dimension between the two worlds and never be seen again. Well, that would be an interesting result, too."

(*Hey, wasn't that like what Hat'n'Clogs said before we left?*)

Uryuu paused and turned to smirk up at the scientist, reveling in the annoyance he knew he was about to cause the Shinigami.

"What?" Kurotsuchi seemed confused at his change in attitude.

"Oh, nothing." Uryuu remarked airily, a wicked smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched clown-face frown at him. "I was just thinking… Urahara-san gave us a similar lecture before we came here."

The growing fury on Kurotsuchi's face was a balm to Uryuu's soul, and he continued driving the nail home. "You're the second head of the research department, aren't you? So that would make you Urahara-san's disciple, right? You are quite alike, so it makes sense."

" _ **You!**_ "

Laughing madly in his mind at enraging scientist — and joined by both Ichigo's laughter and Insane-Ichigo's cackles — Uryuu leapt through the garganta and immediately formed a platform beneath his feet.

His mirth quickly drained, however, when he saw how uneven the platform was. Unlike the small and smooth platforms he'd become accustomed to forming, this one was large and pitted like the dome of Las Noches after his combat with Ulquiorra was over. Uryuu frowned in concentration as he wrestled control over his surging reiatsu, smoothing and calming it as much as he could. The end result was a platform like a sheet of smooth, green glass, large enough for nearly twenty people to stand on with room to stretch. No matter what he tried, he couldn't reduce the size of the platform without the surface turning rough and pitted, jagged spikes of power rippling through the whole thing and destabilizing it.

Unohana landed on the platform soon after he had smoothed out the last of the spikes, her gaze thoughtful as she took it all in then began to walk towards him. Uryuu sent the platform forward as quickly as he dared, as soon as he was assured his passenger was safely within the region he was sure wouldn't fail.

"An interesting use of reishi manipulation," she commented, as she held a hand lit with the green of healing kido towards him. "If I may be assured of your wellbeing?"

That was not a question, and Uryuu knew it, so he submitted without a word. He felt her kido sweep over his body and heal the few wounds he had gathered since that soon-to-be-dead scientist had 'healed' him. The kido then changed focus, flowing into him and probing gently at his reiryoku.

"Your reiryoku has change greatly since I last healed you," Unohana commented, as her kido continued to examine his changed spiritual power.

A war raged in Uryuu's mind. How much could he tell her? How much _should_ he tell her? She was a terrifying woman, one he would hate to be on the wrong side of, but he could just brush her off. Tell her that something Kurotsuchi had done had resulted in the change, and nothing more.

( _*She could be another ally against the scientist,*_ ) the third voice in his mind stated. ( _*The more who turn against him, the greater your chance at victory.*_ )

The voice was right. And even if she didn't turn against Kurotsuchi, just the idea of her not getting between them was a welcome idea.

(*She's a great healer too, right? Maybe she knows some way to fix this!*) Ichigo added.

That was… also true, if a bit far-fetched. He found it doubtful that this odd state of being _could_ be reversed at this point, even by Inoue's ability to reject reality. And he was walking into yet more fighting. Fighting that would force him to adapt and grow accustomed to his new reality.

Uryuu hesitated, glanced behind him at the delicate seeming healer, then fixed his attention forward. Like a broken dam, words spilled from his lips, clipped and jumbled and _broken_ ( _like his mind, like his soul_ ). More than once he had to pause to keep from choking on air, to work around the lump in his throat as he recounted being healed by Kurotsuchi, of finding Ichigo fighting Ulquiorra, following them above the dome of Las Noches, of _watching Ichigo die_. The feeling of hopelessness born of trying to protect Inoue, of trying to win against a warrior that even Ichigo could not best. The loss of his left arm, and the desperate gamble he had taken by drawing in every piece of nearby power, despite the strange way his core was acting. The way his core had shattered like glass, and the agony of remaking himself in order to survive.

The voices in his head remained thankfully silent, doing nothing more than supporting him as he spilled the past half-hour out to a near stranger.

"I see," she said, voice soft but blessedly free of pity. Her kido, which she had left running while he spoke, changed form once more and swept down his left arm, examining the limb closely. "Your arm shows no sign of injury, but it is flooded with much more reiryoku than the rest of you. Is there anything else?"

Uryuu wavered, wondering if he should mention the voices he had been hearing. Shinigami spoke of their swords as if there was another spirit within them… perhaps the alteration of his nature had split pieces off? But then, the Ichigo-voice he could understand, not the other two.

"I've been hearing three different voices since I… absorbed Ichigo's body." There, he had said it. Acknowledged the fact that the voices did not seem to be fading with time.

"Three..? I see." Unohana sounded thoughtful. "And what do these voices sound like?"

"Like Ichigo, an insane Ichigo, and a third voice that I can't place."

"Perhaps we do have a chance after all," she breathed. "I had wondered, with your changes and your reiryoku feeling the way it does, but… have you noticed any differences in your skills? Anything odd that you cannot explain?"

Uryuu clenched his right hand, nails digging into his palms. Of course he had noticed differences! The only thing that didn't seem to have changed was his appearance and the fact he could still call on his Quincy training, thank every kami in existence for that small blessing! What was she driving at, though?

"My reiatsu is green," Uryuu stated dryly, as he cast an annoyed look over his shoulder at her. "My bow has changed shape, my reiryoku is wilder and harder to control, I can apparently block attacks with a single hand, and I'm suddenly an expert swordsman with my off hand. Oh, and I have voices in my head that won't shut up."

The look Unohana gave him in reply had him ducking his head to hide the blush of embarrassment that rose up. It didn't help that the Ichigo-voice was snickering at his misfortune, or that all he could do in response was send annoyance towards the voice.

"Things like that, yes," Unohana acknowledged. "It seems to me that the only potential explanation is that you've somehow merged with Kurosaki-san. It would explain the number of voices: Kurosaki-san himself, his hollow, and his zanpakutou. It would also explain many of those other results that you've described to me, as well as your, ah… hair."

His… hair?

Uryuu blanched, reaching up with a hand to pull his bangs within sight, only to sigh in relief when the strands were still his natural black and not Ichigo's weird orange.

(*Hey! My hair is perfectly natural!*)

( _*How is orange natural?!*_ ) Uyruu snapped back, before turning his attention back to his hair.

But if the color was right, then what was wrong?

Unohana's mouth twitched into an amused smile. "You have spikes. And stripes."

"Please tell me you're kidding," Uyruu nearly begged, as he ran a hand over his hair, only to find that she _wasn_ _'t_. He couldn't be certain of how bad it was without a mirror, but his hair was no longer laying flat. And what had she said about _stripes?_

He yelped in surprise as Unohana reached up and plucked a few strands of hair from his head, presenting them to him on her outstretched palm. Her smile grew wider as he stared in shock at the _orange_ hairs on her hand. It had to be a joke. Some strange kido that the Captain of healers knew to change the color of hair. It had to be.

But running his own hand through his hair and tugging out a few strands here and there on his own produced the same result. A few orange hairs mixed in with the black.

"Mind the path," her amused voice broke him out of his surprise, just in time for him to keep the edges of the platform from crumbling away.

( _*I have stripes. I have_ _ **orange striped hair**_ _!*_ ) Uryuu nearly wailed in his mind, as he tried to make sense of this new blow to his identity.

( ***New nickname!*** ) the insane Ichigo cackled madly in response. ( ***Koneko-chan is perfect for ya! Hahahaha!*** )

(*Stop tormenting Uryuu right now,*) Ichigo chided his hollow. (*This is difficult enough as it is, he doesn't need you constantly bothering him.*)

( ***Hey! Yer not the boss of** **— OW! Knock it off! Damnit!*** )

Silence mercifully fell in his head, and Uryuu sighed as he rubbed at his forehead. "This is permanent, isn't it."

"Urahara-san might be capable of undoing what Kurotsuchi-taicho has done. However…"

"The longer we're like this, the more permanent it's likely to be." He grimaced and looked ahead, searching for the exit but not yet finding it. "And with the war, it's unlikely he'll have the time to do so."

"Yes."

He took a breath. Another. This wasn't the end of the world, and at least he knew he wasn't insane. ( _Yet. Oh kami, he had **Ichigo** in his head. He had Ichigo. In. His. **Head.**_ ) So he shoved his fear and denial aside and turned his attention to problems he could, hopefully, deal with. It was better than breaking down gibbering, which is what he _actually_ wanted to do.

"Explain what you meant by still having a chance."

She was silent for a long moment, and Uryuu thought she wasn't going to answer him. When she finally spoke, it was to ask another question. "Have you every seen Aizen Sousuke-san's shikai?"

( _*Have you?*_ ) Uryuu decided to ask Ichigo, just in case it mattered.

(*No.*)

"No," Uryuu answered. "And neither has... has Ichigo, if it matters."

Tension drained from her posture. "I'm glad to hear that. And perhaps with Kurosaki-san's power added into yours, it will be enough."

"Explain."

"Aizen-san's zanpakutou, Kyouka Suigetsu, only activates its power when the opponent witnesses the moment of release to shikai," Unohana lectured. "Everyone in the Gotei Thirteen, Urahara Kisuke-san and everyone around him, even Aizen Sousuke-san's own subordinates, the Arrancar and Espada… essentially anyone who could possibly be involved in this battle has already seen it."

He didn't like where this was going. "Except me."

"Yes. Except for you. With your Captain-class reiatsu and the fact that you haven't seen Kyouka Suigetsu's shikai, we have a critical advantage." Unohana paused a moment, to fix him with a stern look. "If we lose that advantage, if you witness his shikai, it will all be over."

(*Huh, no pressure, eh?*) Ichigo spoke up. (*Just the entirety of Karakura for a start, and likely the Three Worlds after.*)

Uryuu's hands clenched. _Why_ did Ichigo have to die? ( _his fault_ ) _Why_ did everything have to fall on _his_ shoulders? ( _his fault-his fault-too slow-too weak_ ) With this, his promise to his father was shattered like his core, and he wasn't even sure he was capable of fighting such a foe!

(*No it isn't!*) Ichigo broke into his spiraling thoughts. (*I asked you to defeat Aizen for me, even before we learned the Shinigami couldn't do it themselves! So you're still working for me, not them! We're friends, right? This is what friends do for each other, isn't it? Continue when the other can't?*)

He relaxed minutely. Ichigo was right. He wasn't doing this for the Shinigami, but for his friend, and wasn't that how he had excused coming to Hueco Mundo in the first place? It would be alright. Everything had to be alright in the end. ( _except Ichigo was dead-dead-_ _ **dead**_ _and that couldn_ _'t be **fixed**_ ) He slammed that fragment of thought away deep in his soul. He couldn't face that right now.

"No matter what occurs in the battle to come," Unohana was still speaking, though he barely caught her words though his own spiraling thoughts and emotional turmoil. "You must not witness Aizen-san's shikai. Do you understand?"

"I understand," Uryuu answered robotically. He understood perfectly well. There was no one he could rely upon except Sado, who was still in Hueco Mundo. Even Inoue was suspect, since she had been in Aizen's presence for so long.

( _*Ichigo, I want you to help me.*_ ) The spark of an idea ignited in his mind, though he was unsure if it would actually work.

(*Of course! I don't know what I can do from in here, but I'll try.*)

( _*Try to reach out through me and hold the reishi in the platform together.*_ ) Uryuu instructed. If he could borrow Ichigo's skills and instincts in the heat of battle, perhaps the other could consciously affect the world around them if Uryuu let him?

(*Eh? Okay…*)

It felt… odd. He could feel Ichigo's consciousness reaching through his powers, testing and examining the way he was holding the platform together and directing it through the space between worlds. It felt like slipping two arms down a sleeve only just large enough, stiff and awkward no matter how he tried to move, made worse by the way Ichigo clumsily grasped at control and Uryuu himself instinctively held onto that same control even tighter. It took a long moment of wrestling back and forth, before Uryuu finally managed to relinquish enough control that Ichigo could begin to take over.

(*Alright,*) Ichigo said, as he firmed up his initial grasp on the platform. (*I think I got it.*)

Uryuu took a breath and carefully, slowly, released his hold on the platform, fighting his instincts the entire way. The platform wavered uneasily, the edges going ragged and the speed dropping, and Uryuu had to fight back his rising panic at both the loss of control and the potential of being dropped into the void.

(*Calm down and stop fighting! I thought you wanted me to take control!*) Ichigo groused, as he struggled to maintain his hold against Uryuu's instincts.

( _*I do.*_ ) Uryuu reaffirmed, both to himself and to Ichigo. Still, it took conscious effort to reign in his instincts and relinquish the last of the control over to his friend. As he did, the platform wavered one last time, before steadying and speeding back up, though the edges remained ragged.

He reeled his control back even further, until he was only aware of the platform as an abstract, a drain upon his reiatsu. The edges became as ragged as a scrap of fabric, but the platform was so large to begin with that the area around himself and Unohana remained solid and unblemished.

Unohana's gaze was curious and a bit calculating, as if she had an idea of what had just occurred but was waiting for him to confirm or deny it himself. He just shook his head, unwilling to speak of it, and she inclined her head slightly in acceptance.

What mattered was that he would only have one good shot at Aizen, one chance to end it all before the megalomaniac was aware of him. He needed every scrap of advantage he could gather over the older, more experienced Shinigami, and with that in mind he began to gather and compact reishi from the void into the quiver of power over his left shoulder.

( ***Man, ya really need ta get some new attacks. This one** **'s gettin' boring!*** ) Ichigo's hollow complained loudly. ( ***Hey! I know! Lemme at** **'im! I'll rip that bastard a new one so fast he'll never know what hit 'im!*** )

Ignoring the hollow as best he could, Uryuu continued to prepare his attack as best he could. It was difficult, though — the void wasn't exactly the most reishi rich of zones, and he quickly managed to gather up every scrap that came near and wasn't already bound up in the platform. Suddenly, however, a calm pool of power just _appeared_ behind him, replenishing as quickly as he could gather it.

Unohana's gaze was knowing and calm as he glanced back at her. She glanced at the quiver of light, then back to him, before placidly saying, "You are our only chance."

"Thank you," Uryuu said softly, pushing his pride aside for the moment. This was no time to let dislike get in the way of survival, and he knew it.

The power tugged at his concentration, desiring to be free, to expand once more, but he held it. Concentrated it. Forged it into the weapons he would need as soon as they reached the other side. He would give Aizen as little warning as possible.

One move.

They came to the exit, the veil between the worlds thinning. He could see Aizen thought it, like looking through a blindfold — not so much _Aizen_ as _a feeling of Aizen._

It would have to be enough.

" _ **Lichtregen!**_ " Uryuu lunged forward, emerald bow _snapping_ into existence in his hand, as the barrier between the Precipice and the Living World _**shattered.**_

* * *

And there's chapter 2! Next month is NaNo, but I've already got the third chapter written up and ready to be edited, so I'll be posting on time still.

I hope I properly portrayed the fact that Uryuu is hovering on the edge of a mental breakdown and holding it back by force of will and fixating on things that don't directly revolve around having seen his friend die in front of him and then having merged with said friend in an act of desperation. But, really, not much time has passed since it happened, and denial is a _very_ strong emotion.

Till then, ja ne.


	3. A World of Grey

**Disclaimer:** Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and those people/companies that publish Bleach. I own nothing except my meagre attempts at playing in his sandbox.

 **Warnings** : Pretty much everybody's mouth, described violence (it IS Bleach, after all), mostly canon up to the fight with Butterfly-Aizen then kiss canon goodbye. Also unbetaed

( _Everything's green_ ) - Subconscious flow of thoughts  
( _*Why is everything green?*_ ) - Uryuu actively thinking  
(*Because it is.*) - Ichigo actively thinking  
( ***Who th'hell cares?!*** ) - Shiro actively thinking  
( _*Peace, hollow.*_ ) - Old Man Zangetsu actively thinking

* * *

Shards of the barrier between worlds glimmered in the sudden brightness of the Living World, scattering through the sky as Uryuu released his hold on the power he had gathered. Arrows scythed down upon the former Captain's back, a rain so thick and heavy that all sight of the traitor was obscured, even to his reiatsu senses.

Uryuu landed heavily upon a reishi platform that he had solidified, then spun to fire another handful of arrows at where the Captain had last been. Not a Lichtregen, but still powerful. He could not take a chance…

"It's been a long time, little ryoka boy."

Uryuu froze, body locking up in horror. Aizen stood before him, unharmed but for a few tears in the man's clothing. Everything he had done… Uryuu cursed mentally and darted backwards, trying to put space between them.

"Though I'll admit, I expected someone else." Aizen continued, as he idly brushed aside a dissolving fragment of reishi barrier. "Tell me boy, where is Kurosaki Ichigo?"

"None of your business, traitor," Uryuu spat, eyes narrowing as he drew his bow back. He was at a severe disadvantage now, an archer versus a swordsman. The others he had taken down, others he had fought and destroyed and won against, had only fractions of Aizen's experience, even the Espada themselves.

( _*And I had problems with the upper tiers. Even like this, I'm unsure…*_ )

(*Stop worrying and just win!*)

Aizen made a noise of amusement, his mouth curling upwards into a self-satisfied smirk. "You're worried, aren't you. That was your finest attack, prepared in peace and readied as a preemptive strike… and look at me." He held his arms out wide, inviting Uryuu to observe the lack of damage dealt to him. To observe the lack of blood, the unruffled appearance marred only by the faintly ragged edges of his coat. "Untouched. Your one chance at success, a failure."

( ***Damnit! Lemme at th' bastard!*** ) Insane-Ichigo howled, struggling against Uryuu's control. ( ***I'll wipe that damn smirk off his goddamn face!*** )

Uryuu felt himself waver, felt his reiatsu twist as the Hollow nature began to overwhelm the rest of it. He felt like a passenger in his own body, as his stance shifted and his bow _melted_ , running into the form of a huge cleaver blade like wax into a mold.

"Oh, what is this? A Quincy with the powers of a Hollow?" Aizen asked, his smirk growing wider. "Or perhaps… a Quincy with the powers of a Substitute."

Rage rose within his heart, clouding his vision red and narrowing his focus down to that infuriating smirk. His body lunged forward, sword rippling with black power along the edge, straight at Aizen who just _stood there_. Stood there and watched, with that infuriating smirk growing wider.

His body struck, every ounce of strength, every ounce of skill both his and not behind the blow. The power clinging to the edge of the blade rippled outward into an unnamed Getsuga Tenshou that followed the blow.

"What's the matter? You missed."

Uryuu regained some control over his body, enough to spin around to face where Aizen's voice had come from, and leapt backwards. Insane-Ichigo howled in his head, snarling about cowards and fear and how nothing good could come of retreating now.

"Why are you putting so much distance between us?" Aizen flicked his sword, droplets of blood scattering through the air as Uryuu finally noticed the line of blood raised on his left bicep. It was just a thin scratch, barely more than a paper cut, but…

He hadn't seen Aizen moving.

Terror wormed its way through his heart. Even outclassed by Ulquiorra, he'd been able to follow the Espada's movements. Even the blow that had taken his arm, he had seen, but been unable to react to.

 _He hadn't seen Aizen moving._

"You're a fool. Distance only matters when those of equal power are fighting each other. For you and I, it really means nothing." Aizen flickered out of existence, appearing in front of Uryuu again before the other even had time to process the movement. Aizen's fingers rested lightly on his chest, right above his heart. Aizen's voice turned gentle, like a man comforting a child. "Look. Look how quickly I could rip out your heart if I wanted to."

His arm lashed out without his input, blade carving through the space that Aizen had occupied, cutting only air.

"Let me ask you one thing, ryoka boy. Why are you fighting me? Do you hate me?" Aizen asked as soon as he reappeared, his back to Uryuu and head tilted only just enough to glance over his shoulder. "I suppose you should. Your powers, the feel of your reiatsu, your expression… the Kurosaki boy died, didn't he? Pity. I had high hopes for him."

(*What the hell? He's almost as creepy as clown-face when he says things like that,*) Ichigo muttered.

"But you're not fighting out of hate, are you? No. A promise then? To a dying friend, to avenge his death. And what now? You being here means that whoever killed the boy is dead. Did you promise to take me out too?" Aizen mused, as his head tilted back to stare up at the sky above them. He then chuckled, glancing back over his shoulder, and continued, "You can't kill me with a promise alone, you know. Fighting without hate is like an eagle without wings. Even your survival and victory over your friend's killer is nothing more than the last desperate will of a dying protector. You're too weak to protect anyone, even yourself, and you think you can defeat me?"

Rage. Boiling _rage_ began to flood Uryuu's body at Aizen's words. How dare that self-righteous bastard talk about Ichigo like that? If the fool wanted hate, then **_he would get it!_**

An arm blocked his advance, heavy and powerful, and a great hand clamped down upon his own. "Don't listen to him."

(*That's Komamura-san,*) Ichigo spoke, when he realized Uryuu didn't know who had stopped him. (*Why is he…*)

"Provocation is his specialty. Lose yourself and you'll lose your life as well." Komamura examined him closely, then turned to look at Aizen. "Don't worry, we understand why the other Captains in Hueco Mundo chose to send you back here."

Suddenly he was surrounded by other warriors, some he recognized, others he didn't. Ichigo's voice in his mind named them: Sui-Feng, Omaeda, Toshiro, Shinji, Kyoraku, Rose, Love… the list went on, as more and more appeared around him.

"We will not let you see Aizen's shikai," Komamura finished. "We will fight, and we will protect you."

(*They're gonna protect us?*) Ichigo asked incredulously. (*They're half dead already!*)

Uryuu couldn't help but agree; wounds littered the bodies of those standing between him and Aizen, their shoulders slumped in barely contained exhaustion. And yet… and yet…

And yet they stood proudly, swords steady and eyes determined.

( _*Not so nice to be on the other side of the hero-complex, is it?*_ ) Uryuu shot back at Ichigo, remembering times when _Ichigo_ was the one standing, bloodied but defiant, between someone and an enemy beyond his strength.

Ichigo sputtered, trying to explain, to deny, but Uryuu resolutely ignored him.

He took a deliberate step backwards, reishi sword settling into a comfortable ready-stance. Kuchiki's words came back to him — _"We are perfectly capable of managing such a simple foe on our own"_ — and he felt… not precisely accepting of the need for others to fight part of this battle for him, but more confident that, bloody and bleeding as they might be, these Captains could handle another Captain.

Hitsugaya started the battle, lunging forward with a determined frown on his face. One after the other, the Captains darted forward, joining the battle and forcing Aizen to focus on as many fronts as they could.

"Ishida Uryuu… allow me to thank you," Komamura began, as he watched the battle and waited for his own opening. "Had you not appeared and attacked when you did, I would likely have attacked him myself in a fit of rage and been killed. Thank you."

Uryuu blinked and watched as the fox-like Captain lunged into the fray, a bit confused by the thanks. By a Shinigami thanking a Quincy.

( _*In this moment, there are no Shinigami, no Quincy. There are only those against Aizen and those not,*_ ) the unknown voice cut in

"Aaah man, why the hell didn't ya bring Orihime-chan back with ya? She coulda healed us all up lickity-split and we'd be off in tip-top shape ta fight Aizen," a man Ichigo identified as Hirako complained, as he sauntered up and eyed Uryuu thoughtfully.

Uryuu's heart froze at what he saw in Hirako's gaze, at the raw _rage-rage-hate-pain_ that flickered like a bonfire catching alight, at the stupid grin that held more akin to bared teeth than a real smile.

(*Shit,*) Ichigo so masterfully put it.

"Well, I guess it coulda been worse. At least Unohana-san came with ya." Hirako glanced down at the desolation below them, then back towards the fight with Aizen. "With all this fightin' goin' on, it's probably better she's here anyway. Lisa. Love. Rose. Let's go."

Without giving him a chance to respond, the four Visored lunged into the fray.

"How long were you planning to space out, Quincy?" Sui-Feng's strained voice broke into his thoughts. Uryuu had to swallow back bile as he saw her missing arm, his own left arm throbbing in remembered agony. "You'll only have one chance to exploit an opening. Don't miss it."

She paused in her advance, her single remaining hand tightening into a clenched fist. "Don't think that we're prepared to go down fighting. We're fighting to live. We're fighting because if we don't, we won't live to see another dawn. All the fancy words in the universe — about saving the world, about not suffering a villain to live — those mean nothing against the truth. We fight for ourselves, for our friends and companions, we fight because it's not in our nature to roll over and present our bellies like a beaten cur. Don't fall behind, Ishida Uryuu."

"H-hey! Wait for me, Captain!" Omaeda shouted as Sui-Feng disappeared in a blur of shunpo.

Uryuu clenched his jaw and briefly gripped the reishi sword tighter, before two sets of instincts relaxed his grip once more. There was no point in becoming stiff while waiting for his chance. He had to trust in these Captains, in their skills and abilities.

(*Shit, Toshiro's gettin' pissed,*) Ichigo said, as they watched the tiny Captain pause in the air and sweep his sword out. Even at the distance they stood, Toshiro's scream of **'Bankai!'** could clearly be heard.

"Not good," Uryuu muttered to himself. The escalation of power being shown by the other Captains was impressive, but _he could still see them moving_.

Nervousness rose in his heart, as he watched more and more Captains unleash their swords, as he watched Aizen play with them, like a cat that had found its way into a mouse nest.

 _"This is the way of life, the weak fall before the strong,"_ Ulquiorra had said as he faded from existence.

Strength. Again and again and again, the focus of strength, of power. A Shinigami ruling a collection of the strongest Hollows in existence. Illusions or not, he would have been challenged. Illusions or not, he would have needed to fight, to prove himself.

Aizen had command Ulquiorra's services, and perhaps even the emotionless Espada's respect.

(*We have to help them!*) Ichigo cried, as Komamura fell from the sky, broken and bloody.

His body twitched, shivered at the competing desires — Ichigo's urge to fly into the combat fighting his fading desire to remain in place and wait for his moment.

"We can't," Uryuu voiced aloud, as much to remind himself as Ichigo.

His resolve wavered. Another Captain fell. Another. Another. Aizen brutally, calmly, absently ripped through the force, barely even moving except for the occasional shunpo. This was… not going the way he thought it would.

And then _it_ happened. A heartbeat of inattention on his part, caught by the spectacle of the clones Sui-Feng covered the sky with. A heartbeat of inattention.

A lifetime of recriminations.

Aizen replaced himself with Hinamori. Ice erupted, trapping her in place.

"What…" Uryuu began.

Sui-Feng darted forward, stabbing the girl once, before freezing and stumbling back a step.

Hope crept in — they saw. They had to see…

Hitsugaya's blade erupted through her chest.

Uryuu's heart _froze_.

Jubilation broke out.

 _They couldn't see what he could._

 _They couldn't see the truth!_

" **What the hell do you think you're doing!** " Uryuu _screamed_ , breaking his stance and hurtling across the battlefield, spurred on by horror at witnessing _another death_ , this time by an ally at the hands of another ally.

Uryuu had no illusion that his own scream and movement had broken the trance. Rather, _Aizen_ allowed the illusion to fall, allowed horror and disbelief to spread through the ranks. A tiny portion of his mind acknowledged the brilliant move.

"Kyoka Suigetsu's power is complete hypnotism," Aizen was saying, as Uryuu hurtled into range. "It controls the senses at all times and can create an illusion out of any situation."

"But I'm ask you when! When did you use Kyoka Suigetsu?!" Hirako screamed.

"Then let me ask you something," Aizen said, as he reached out behind him and caught Uryuu's arm below the elbow. As he twisted and _hurled_ Uryuu away, without once looking at the Quincy. "When did you start thinking I wasn't using Kyoka Suigetsu?"

Uryuu snarled, flipped himself upright, and landed on his feet, though he skid nearly to the barrier that stood between the fake town and the real world. When he finally looked up again, four more bodies were falling from the sky, while Aizen stood and watched.

He yearned to lunge into the fray once more, rage boiling inside at the casual way Aizen had dismantled all of them, spurred on by Insane-Ichigo's snarls and howls.

( _*Calm yourself,*_ ) the third voice broke in, shattering the red haze that was once more settling over his vision. ( _*Attacking in anger will only result in death against a foe of this caliber.*_ )

Uryuu took a breath. Held it. Released. In and out, steady and even. He swallowed back his hate, clamped down on the instincts that Insane-Ichigo was bleeding into his mind.

( _*What do you suggest, then?*_ ) Uryuu asked as soon as he was sure he wouldn't throw himself head first at Aizen again.

( _*So far, we have been acting on instinct alone, relying upon conflicting training in hopes that the best reaction will prevail. This cannot stand.*_ )

( _*I will not let it stand.*_ )

The world faded to greys.

"Yo, Uryuu!" Ichigo hailed him cheerfully, massive sword slung over his shoulder and Shinigami garb whole, unlike the last time Uryuu had seen his friend.

"Ichigo..?" Uryuu frowned, then glanced around at the grey world. It was… confusing.

What looked like his body knelt in the sky behind him, washed out like the rest, like an old photo in a museum. And damnit, but Unohana-san hadn't been leading him on. His hair was spiked up in all directions, only barely tamed by his longer hair length, and streaks of grey ran through the black everywhere. He shot a glower in Ichigo's direction — his life had been going perfectly fine before Ichigo's brand of crazy had become his new norm!

The world around him seemed almost frozen, like an old movie on pause, except… the world wasn't quite right. Tears littered the sky, from which thrust sideways skyscrapers, steel and glass megaliths that were twisted and partially destroyed. Some looked melted, others like they had been blown up, and still others flickered in and out of existence as if even here in this strange reality they couldn't quite exist. Their bases were affixed to nothing, instead coming through a black void that reminded Uryuu of the Precipice World.

The towers were the only bits of the world besides Ichigo and himself that had any color. Even the blue sky had faded away, replaced by a very pale grey.

"It's a bit odd, isn't it?" Ichigo asked as he crossed the distance between them and stood at Uryuu's side, looking down at the grey scale copy of Uryuu that knelt in the sky. "'Cording to the Old Man, Shinigami and Hollows have Inner Worlds, because they're just two sides of the same coin, but Quincy don't."

Uryuu scoffed. "Of course Quincy don't have Inner Worlds. We don't have fragments of soul acting as blades."

"Except now you do," the third voice broke into the conversation, the owner of it approach the two of them at a stately walk. "Though it is hardly the same as being born with a blade in your soul, you now bear host to another soul and the blade born of it."

Uryuu took a moment to examine the stranger — likely the one that Ichigo had called the 'Old Man' — and found the appellation to be suiting. The man's wild black hair and stubble beard, combined with his intimidating height, sunglasses, and ragged coat lent an air of age and wisdom to the man that Ichigo definitely didn't have.

The man stopped a few paces away and returned the examination, though Uryuu could read nothing in those dark eyes and calm expression.

"This is as close as I could come to creating an Inner World in a being that was never meant to have one," the Old Man continued. "Though it is hardly perfect."

"Hey, Old Man, why're my skyscrapers here, and why do they look like _that_?" Ichigo asked, as he pointed to one of the melted towers that pierced through the grey sky.

The Old Man gave Ichigo an unimpressed look. "I would think that to be obvious. Your soul was in the process of moving on when it was absorbed by our new host. Much of that damage is the result of the trauma of death and dispersal, and the rest came from the shock that both of you endured in the process of merging."

"What does that mean for me?" Uryuu broke in, as he looked back at his kneeling body. It was surreal, staring at his grey scale form like that, and he couldn't help but raise his hand and begin to reach out towards his body, only to have his wrist caught by the Old Man.

"If you touch yourself, you will leave this state and be thrust back into the battle," the Old Man cautioned him. "I would be displeased if you attempted to leave before we have managed to at least partially fix the problems that have arisen."

"Oi, Old Man! How do you expect us to fix anything?" Ichigo exclaimed, as he waved one hand wildly to indicate the mess that existed around them. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't this just a bit beyond thrashing our problems out?"

The Old Man inclined his head in acknowledgment, then fixed Uryuu with his steady gaze once more. "And I don't expect either of you to immediately resolve the conflict that remains in your hearts. But as this is our new reality, then it behooves us to make an effort to at least coexist in a way that does not bring harm to any of us."

"And if we don't?" Uryuu asked.

"If we don't, then it is likely that the instincts at war in your mind will cause your death."

"Heh, so, no pressure, right?" Ichigo asked, as he rubbed the back of his head with his right hand. "I mean, we've been doin' good so far, right?"

Except they hadn't, and Uryuu had a feeling that Ichigo knew that just as well as he did. So far, none of the lapses between the instincts of an archer and the instincts of a swordsman had caused undue harm, but if Ichigo had been any less of a swordsman, or Uryuu any less of an archer, or had an iota less practice with swords himself….

The Old Man nodded decisively, as if he knew the conclusion that Uryuu had reached. Not that there were many other conclusions that he could have reached, unless he wanted to stick his head in the sand and pretend ignorance.

"So, we just fight, right?" Ichigo asked. "I mean, that's what Shiro and I did all the time to get closer."

"And how, exactly, will that help me?" Uryuu snapped at the soul of his friend. "I'll still be using my instincts, and you'll be using yours, and that's hardly enough to actually impart any of that into me. You sparring with… Shiro?… was likely just a way for the two parts of you to sync up better."

A cackle caught his attention, and his instincts screamed at him. He ducked and moved away, cursing his lack of reiatsu reinforcements, and barely escaped with his head intact. Another figure landed where he had been standing, and Uryuu had to struggle to understand what he was seeing. White hair, white skin, amber eyes with black sclera, and white robes with black trim… a mostly inverted version of Ichigo, stood grinning maniacally at him, and Uryuu had no trouble understanding Ichigo's decision to call this bit of himself 'Shiro'.

He also had no trouble acknowledging that Ichigo was _horrible_ at naming things.

"Hey, we fuckin' done blabbin' yet?" Shiro demanded, as he swept his inverted khyber blade to the side and gave a toothy grin. "Cause I'm bored as hell an' th'Old Man promised me a fight!"

Uryuu felt his eye twitch. This was that insane voice that was constantly provoking him, constantly wearing at his patience, constantly driving him to actions outside his comfort zone. He leveled an unamused glower at Ichigo, silently blaming the other for the unalloyed insanity that his life had become.

The kick to his ribs from the Old Man was so unexpected that Uryuu was flying through the air before he even had a moment to comprehend what had happened. His back slammed into the partially melted steel of a skyscraper, causing it to buckle and groan under the assault, before finally giving way when Ichigo slammed into him and drove both of them through the steel and into the interior of the building.

They scrambled to their feet, shedding fragments of metal and pieces of glass as they did. Ichigo summoned his blade back to him, having dropped it during his unscheduled flight, and settled into a fighting stance. Uryuu attempted to gather reishi to himself to form his bow, and found it… difficult. There was power in the air, thick and heavy and distinctly his, but yet it refused to bend to his will.

"Cut that out!" Ichigo shouted at him, as he thumped his fist down atop Uryuu's head and broke the Quincy's concentration. "Stop trying to absorb me and just make your damn bow!"

"What?" Uryuu squawked, as he darted away from Ichigo and under Shiro's inverted blade as it sailed in through the hole in the building like a strangely sharped arrow. "The hell do you mean I'm trying to absorb you?!"

"Tch," Ichigo grunted as he knocked Shiro's weapon aside as it came back at him. "I mean you're pulling on me when you're tryin' to make that bow! This ain't the real world, ya know!"

Uryuu paled at the implication. The damage he could have done to the spirit of his best friend was… no. He didn't even want to contemplate it.

Not that he had the time. Shiro was suddenly in front of him, blade singing through the air as he swung. Uryuu threw himself backwards and darted away, cursing the sluggishness of his limbs without his standard reinforcements. Back and back and back even further, Shiro's blade just that touch faster than him, carving away at his limbs and leaving stinging lines of blood behind. The air filled with the scent of must and rot and iron, his blood splashing across the room in arcs as it scattered off of Shiro's blade.

He was being played with, driven away from Ichigo with each lunge and swing of the blade. Every time he managed to dredge up another fragment of speed, Shiro simply moved faster. He stumbled, fell, pushed the fall into a roll that landed him back on his feet, broken table leg in his hand. Didn't matter. Shiro cackled brightly, inverted blade carving through the metal leg like it was made of paper, leaving Uryuu to hurl the remains at Shiro's head. It bought him a second.

Uryuu dove forward, sliding around Shiro, out of the corner he was being boxed into. The tail of bandages from Shiro's blade whipped around his ankle, yanking him back and slamming him into the wall. Air was driven out of his lungs, and it was all he could do to duck under the swing that would have taken his head.

" _Uryuu!_ " Ichigo's panicked voice reached him as if from a long way off. "Damnit, let me by!"

"You know I cannot allow that," came the infuriatingly calm response. "If he cannot accept this, accept us, then why should it matter if he dies now? We'll all be dead either way, whether by Shiro's hands or Aizen's. Does it really matter who does it in the end?"

It was sobering, to hear one of Ichigo's spirits speaking so coldly about his death. Uryuu clenched his fists, ducked under another of Shiro's wild swings, barely dodged the reaching bandage, and lashed out with a kick at the back of Shiro's knee. The pale spirit stumbled forward with a yelp, more surprised than hurt, and turned to face him with the largest, toothiest grin Uryuu had ever seen.

"So th' lil kitten does have claws!" Shiro cackled madly, as he starting twirling his blade over his head, using the bandage as a handle. "'Bout time! Let's see how sharp those claws are!"

A litany of curses ran through Uryuu's mind as he forced his tiring body to evade the hurled blade. It whistled past him, ripping through his shirt and leaving a long, bleeding gash in his side. The bloodthirsty grin that stretched across Shiro's face told him everything he needed to know.

The other wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

He needed a weapon. Something, anything.

His breath dragged harshly at his throat, his body screamed at the abuse. He couldn't — wouldn't! — let Shiro win. Refused to admit defeat in the face of this insane version of his best ( _only_ ) friend.

He needed a weapon!

Shiro tugged on the bandage, pulling the blade back into his hand, and lunged forward.

Uryuu's world crystallized. He moved forward, into the lunge, took the wide blade through his shoulder. It burned, burned so badly it went numb, as he lost feeling in his right arm and the world narrowed down to Shiro, to reaching Shiro, that battle-mad fragment of his best friend that was now trapped within his soul.

Shiro's pale face came close to his, even as equally pale fingers traced over the edges of the ragged wound in Uryuu's shoulder, sending tiny jolts of pain through his body. "Th'hell you think you're doin', Koneko? Aim was a bit off iffen ya wanted t'suicide, and ya seem a bit rough 'round th'edges now t'fight me. All I need t'do is rip this blade from yer body and finish ya off."

Uryuu's breath caught in his throat, as Shiro almost gently jostled the blade, driving him to his knees from the lance of pain that overtook the numbness that was settling over his mind. He reached out with his left hand ( _only hand_ ) and closed it over Shiro's, so that both of their hands were holding the blade in place.

Shiro was Ichigo. Ichigo was Shiro. And the Old Man finished the triad that his friend's soul had become. Ichigo would never hurt him. They were a tetrad now, four spirits who had to learn to work together for their own survival.

The Old Man was right. If he couldn't bring himself to accept this new reality, they were all doomed.

Shiro cackled then flicked him on the forehead. "Guess yer a bit quicker on th'uptake than Aibo is, Koneko. Damn, guess I owe th'Old Man now."

Uryuu frowned, opened his eyes, and stared up at Shiro in confusion. Confusion that only grew as he realized the pain had faded away, his mind sharp and clear once more. His left hand was still on the tang of the inverted blade, but instead of resting atop Shiro's, Shiro's was resting atop his.

And the blade was no longer pierced through his shoulder.

"We're yers now, Koneko, no matter how fucked up this whole crazy adventure is. But if ya start slackin' off, I'll take you over jes' like I did with Aibo! I ain't no pansy horse to let jes anyone have control!"

He pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly as a wave of dizziness rushed through him, steadying only when Shiro let go of the tang and held him upright. His wounds might be gone, but their effects still lingered in his mind.

Uryuu glanced down at the sword in his hand, watching with detached shock as the wide, heavy, cleaver-like blade melted and reformed in his grasp. The blade slimmed down, until it flowed smoothly from tang to blade, and a portion of the back became sharp. It reminded him of a dao he had once seen in an acrobatic performance, though the one he now held was just as long as Ichigo's old khyber knife. The colors faded as well, changing from the inverted colors of Shiro's weapon into something closer to Ichigo's: a dark silver back and a very pale silvery-blue edge.

The whole thing felt… better in his hand. More like a Seele Schneider despite the increased length and width.

"Huh, already making it yours?" Ichigo asked, as he finally kicked the Old Man hard enough to send him crashing into a far wall. "I didn't think it would change that quickly."

Uryuu winced, turning his gaze from the blade and to Ichigo himself. He didn't know how he felt about 'making it his' like he had. What would come of this? This act that was certain to do nothing more than bind the two of them closer together, to turn them into less of two individuals and more into a single hybrid being.

"Stop it," Ichigo grumbled, as he slung his own blade over his shoulder and slumped down atop a desk that had somehow survived the violent tussle. "I've talked with Old Man Zangetsu about this already. We don't know what's going to happen, or even what we are, but we don't have time for depression or unease or anything like that. Out there, Aizen's in the middle of going after the Soutaichou. Out there, nearly every Captain has fallen or will fall soon."

Uryuu reluctantly tore his gaze away from Ichigo's sword, which had already altered to resemble the huge dao that Uryuu was holding, and focused on his friend. Ichigo was sitting stiffly, his eyes partially hidden by his orange bangs, and there was an unnatural stillness about him that made Uryuu uncomfortable.

The dao hung heavy in his hand, heavier than his heart. A stolen piece of identity, ripped away from its owner and ruthlessly altered to suit him.

A green charm the shape of his new bow hung from the sword's bandage wrapped tang.

"I guess the blade's name is Ichigo now, not Zangetsu," Ichigo commented, snapping the tension between them like a brittle twig.

His racing thoughts ground to a halt, and Uryuu fixed Ichigo with a glare that should have reduced Ichigo to ash if the world were a just place.

"You're naming my blade after yourself," Uryuu drawled, as he leveled the blade at Ichigo's chest. "Were you always this narcissistic, or is this just another manifestation of your crap naming skills."

"It's only right, y'know!" Shiro crowed, as he draped an arm over Uryuu's shoulder and hung off of him. His wide grin was unsettling, with a brittle edge to it like broken glass. "Old Man's name's Zangetsu, and so's Ichigo's blade!"

"That is how Shinigami blades work," the Old Man acknowledged, as he idly brushed glass and steel shards from his coat. "The blade's name is the spirit's name."

"So shouldn't this be Shiro, since I took it off of him?" Uryuu asked, confused, as he glanced between the three spirits.

Ichigo awkwardly rubbed the back of his head and laughed faintly. "Er, no? I mean, I don't think so? Shiro is me, and was part of my blade, so you just took my blade? Er… I think?"

"You don't have a single clue, do you Kurosaki," Uryuu ribbed the other teen.

"It's not like you do either!" Ichigo yelled, as he glowered at Uryuu. "We're just making this up as we go!"

It was true, no matter what Uryuu tried to tell himself. They were stumbling in the dark, trying to feel their way out of a bad situation without making it worse. And every moment they spent like this, every effort they made to work together to survive, made it less and less likely that they could ever be separate people again.

The stolen sword hung heavy in his hand.

Ichigo frowned. "Y'know, this won't work at all if you keep being angsty about it."

"How can you be so calm about this?!" Uryuu raged, as he shoved Shiro aside and stalked towards Ichigo, brandishing the huge blade in his friend's face. "You're dead! You're dead but you're inside me and that means you can't even move on! And instead you're telling me to stop being angsty about stealing a piece of your identity?!"

Ichigo hesitated a moment, eyes going distant. Behind him, Uryuu sensed the restless shifting of Shiro, and the watchful steadiness of the Old Man, and just prayed he wasn't about to be attacked by either aspect.

"I guess it hasn't really sunk in yet," Ichigo answered softly, his gaze still fixed on some distant point over Uryuu's shoulder. "But that doesn't matter, does it? Out there, the three worlds are in danger of destruction from a madman. If this is the only way I can help, if this is the only way I can affect the outcome, then damn the consequences!"

"The Old Man's always saying that you only die when you stop," Ichigo continued, his gaze sharpening and fixing onto Uryuu. "If that's the case, then I can't stop. I can't hesitate. Even if that means becoming some strange form of Zanpakuto for a Quincy, then I'll do it. I'll fight at your side and help you to the best of my abilities."

It was in that moment that Uryuu understood. The tension and stillness in Ichigo, the broken glass smile of Shiro, even the silent focus of Zangetsu. They were afraid he would reject them completely. Say he had no use for fighting alongside others. Say he could do it all on his own.

And he would have, Uryuu realized with a start, his hand clenching tight around the tang of the blade. If something like this had happened earlier, before the invasion of Seireitei, he would have rather died than become something not-Quincy. After, he would have lived, but never accepted help, never accepted the need to work together.

Everything had changed on that rooftop in Hueco Mundo.

"Aww, now ain't this a sappy lil' gatherin' we've become!" Shiro crowed, as he darted forward and draped an arm over Uryuu's shoulders again, still grinning that broken glass smile. "So, koneko! Gunna accept us? Or do we need ta fight again? Please say we get ta fight again!"

He elbowed Shiro in the chest, smirking as the doppleganger yelped ("Th'hell?! You got knives fer elbows?!") and released him. Yes, everything had changed on that rooftop. His pride in being a lone wolf had shattered in the face of death and Inoue's tears. Aizen had destroyed the rest of it, dismissive of everything Uryuu had thrown at him.

With a sharp nod to himself, Uryuu felt his resolve harden. Every step forward was a step away from their previous lives, but only death awaited them in the end if they didn't press on.

( _He couldn't do that to Inoue. To Sado. To Ichigo's sisters._ )

He switched tho blade into his right hand, and attempted to sling the huge sword onto his back the same way Ichigo always did. The motion felt… a bit awkward, different from drawing arrows from a quiver on his back, but the bandage on the hilt wrapped tight about the blade and it remained where he had put it when he removed his hand.

"Now who's the one overcompensating for something?" Ichigo ribbed him with a smile, tension draining from his body.

Uryuu huffed and rolled his eyes, before poking Ichigo in the chest with a finger. "You, obviously, Mr. My-Sword-Is-Bigger-Than-Me."

"Huh, it really is, isn't it?" Ichigo blinked, as he examined the way the blade hung on Uryuu's back. He then shrugged, lips twitching upwards in the tiny motions that Uryuu had learned to read as a smile. "Well, it's only an inch. Maybe you'll grow into it!"

( _Must not murder spirit of best friend._ )

"Do we pass?" Uryuu asked the Old Man as he resolutely ignored the amusement in Ichigo's expression.

Zangetsu watched them with an expressionless face, body language guarded, before he finally nodded his head once. "It will do for now."

He breathed out a sigh, then turned to Ichigo to see the amusement draining from his friend's expression, replaced by determination. Grimly, he nodded and turned to leave the building, jumping through the rough hole that they had made on their entrance and backtracking to where his grey scale body knelt in the sky. Hopefully not much time had passed. Hopefully the battle wasn't lost. Hopefully…

"Let's show Aizen what we're made of," Ichigo said.

Uryuu reached a hand out towards his body.

* * *

Another chapter done. This was actually supposed to be a bit longer and cover the first part of Aizen Vs. Soutaichou, but I've been helping my parents get ready to host an auction of many of their worldly goods (moving into a much smaller house) and I'm dead. My body aches, I haven't gotten a good nights sleep in a week, and I'm fighting a reaction migraine yesterday and today (auction was on Sunday). I also can't use my left middle finger to type, because I managed to shatter the nail at the quick and rip some skin off, so if you see any weird typos in the last third that I didn't catch, it's because I'm typing with three fingers on my left.

Hope everyone's November is going better than mine =P

Ja ne.


	4. The Unending Day

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and those people/companies that publish Bleach. I own nothing except my meagre attempts at playing in his sandbox.

Warnings: Pretty much everybody's mouth, described violence (it IS Bleach, after all), mostly canon up to the fight with Butterfly-Aizen then kiss canon goodbye. Also unbetaed

I keep forgetting to say this, but I really do appreciate every review I get, especially those of you that review every chapter. Even just following and favoriting brings a smile to my face, but reviews really make my day. Thank you, everyone.

Merry Christmas and happy holidays and everything else one says during this time of year! Have a huge 9300 word chapter (everything that was supposed to be in last chapter, and the entire 4th chapter, plus another 1000 words that magically appeared as I edited. Blame Aizen for that). I decided to post this a day early since I have it done and it's the holidays, but next month will be on the last Tuesday again.

( _Everything's green_ ) - Subconscious flow of thoughts  
( _*Why is everything green?*_ ) - Uryuu actively thinking  
(*Because it is.*) - Ichigo actively thinking  
( ***Who th'hell cares?!*** ) - Shiro actively thinking  
( _*Peace, hollow.*_ ) - Old Man Zangetsu actively thinking

* * *

The world snapped into focus the moment his hand came to rest on his body's shoulder. Grey faded to brilliant color, the tears in the sky sealed up, and the ruined, sideways skyscrapers faded from view like a mirage in the sun.

A weight settled on his back, heavy and ominous, and he knew at once that it hadn't been a dream, a delusion of his stressed mind. Still, his hand reached back to touch the cloth-wrapped tang of the blade he had been entrusted with, and he silently reaffirmed his decision. He couldn't let Ichigo down. He wouldn't let Ichigo down.

( ***As if you could dream up someone as awesome as me, koneko!*** ) Shiro cackled, and Uryuu could practically see the insane grin stretching the hollow's face.

Resolutely, he ignored the fragment of his friend, and turned to take in the battlefield. His mouth went dry at once, as he took in the huge pillar of flame that had erupted near the center of the fake town. It dominated the sky, and even here on the edge of the battlefield he could feel the heat of the flames pressing down upon him.

He took a breath, ignored the prickling of his skin in the face of the heat and reiatsu being let off, and bolted forward.

That had to be the Soutaichou over there, fighting Aizen. That wizened old man, hunched and bent forward, leaning on a cane, powerful and respected but old, so old…

Aizen had already dismantled every other Captain.

He barely felt it when the weight on his back lifted, his bow forming instantly in his hand. Uryuu's entire being was focused on crossing the distance, on making it in time, on _not screwing up again_.

"—really think you can cut me down with just that?" the Soutaichou was saying, as Uryuu got within range.

"I am not thinking of cutting you down," Aizen spoke idly, as he crossed the distance in a movement still too fast for Uryuu to follow. "I already have."

"Bullshit!" the Soutaichou roared, still facing the direction that Aizen had stood, as if continuing to speak to a man no longer there.

Uryuu raged. Shiro raged. _Ichigo_ raged. He tangled that rage together, weaving it into the very reishi he gathered into an arrow. It tainted his construct, bled black throughout the green, until the arrow was as dark as a cave. If Aizen wanted rage, Uryuu would damn well give it to him!

The instant the sword erupted through the Soutaichou's stomach, Uryuu fired. The black arrow lanced across the space between them, slamming into Aizen's shoulder and fragmenting into shards of power. A flicker of confusion crossed Aizen's expression.

Aizen took his gaze from the Soutaichou. Fixed Uryuu with a disappointed frown.

"Get back, boy!" the Soutaichou roared, the sheer force of the order enough send Uryuu startling back. "You think yourself clever, Aizen? I think you're a thousand years too young to get anything passed me!"

Pillars of flames erupted into the sky around them, driving Uryuu back a few more steps. The air shimmered, rippling under the effect of both heat and power. His breath rasped through his throat as he tried to breath in the suddenly superheated air. Uryuu licked his lips, trying to bring some relief to them, but tasted only blood from where his flesh had already cracked open.

Reiatsu and heat pressed down on him, a thousand times worse than previously. Uryuu knew that if he hadn't faced Ulquiorra, hadn't fought and won and gained strength from the fighting and the winning, he would have been driven to his knees. As it was, he found it hard to stay standing.

"So this was your plan," Aizen spoke from the center of the inferno. "How cunning, to allow your subordinates to be felled one after the other, all while you prepared this."

Uryuu grit his teeth, struggling against the crushing reiatsu and pushing his own output higher and higher, until he could finally breath, finally stand steady. The heat was still oppressive, but the reiatsu he was outputting seemed to be taking the edge off.

"Cunning is fine by me," the Soutaichou growled. "If it means taking you out, I can accept any losses required! You will burn with me in these flames of hell. **_Get back, Ishida Uryuu!_** "

Uryuu stumbled in his advance, lowering his bow slightly from surprise at being addressed by the Soutaichou. Did _everyone_ know his name?

"You don't even belong to the Gotei 13, so there is no reason to entangle you further in this."

A spark of frustrated rage blossomed in Uryuu's heart. The old man had no right to order him away, no right to assume the reasons! Karakura was _his town_. These two Shinigami were fighting in _his world_ , in _**his town**_ , and now he was being ordered away? This was why he hated Shinigami.

(*Jii-san..?*) Ichigo murmured softly, his voice confused and upset.

"What about the other fighters?" Aizen broke in. "At this rate, they will all become entangled in these 'flames of hell' of yours."

The Soutaichou bowed his head slightly. "They are all prepared. Death is a small price to pay for the extermination of evil. That is what it means to be a part of the Gotei 13!"

Uryuu's breath caught in his throat, shock racing through him at the Soutaichou's callous words. He couldn't help the tiny glance he shot over his shoulder, at the spot where he had seen the other Captains falling.

( _"We're fighting to live,"_ Sui-Feng had stated. Missing one arm and clearly in pain, yet still she had clenched her fist and raised her chin, proud and unbroken and oh so willing to throw herself back into the fray because _she was fighting to live_. Did she know of this plan? Did any of them?)

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. His bow was back in position, arrow forged and fired in the heartbeat of _hollow-kill-it_ instinctive reaction.

The hollow caught the Soutaichou's weapon in its hand, the movement causing it to shift enough enough that his arrow impacted the beast's neck instead of its head. It didn't seem to care though, even with part of its neck and shoulder missing from the back attack.

Then he noticed something odd. The crushing reiatsu, the painful heat, it was all dissipating. Fading away like Ulquiorra's ocean of reiatsu had as soon as he faded. The flames guttered out, leaving columns of heavy smoke in their place.

(*N **o!** *) Ichigo howled, his voice echoing eerily. A surge of hatred and rage _erupted_ within Uryuu's heart, driven by Ichigo and Shiro working as one.

Caught by surprise, Uryuu bit his lip clean through, the sharp tang of blood and the burst of pain enough to ground him momentarily in the now. He raised his bow again, another pitch black arrow forming, and waited for his moment. The smoke and lingering reiatsu was too much for him to accurately sight on Aizen. He would wait.

As the smoke cleared, his rage began to cool. The Soutaichou became visible, standing atop the rubble with his Captain's haori gone and blood running down his torso.

"Shall I explain?" Aizen asked, as he took a position atop another piece of rubble, after casting a dismissive glance at Uryuu. "Your Ryuujin Jakka is the strongest zanpakutou, that is no mistake. In a straight fight, your strength far outweighs mine. But, by throwing away all other abilities and specializing solely on one, opposing the strongest becomes possible. He, Wonderweiss, is the only modded Arrancar in existence. And the name of his Ressurecion is Extinguir.

"He is an Arrancar built solely for the purpose of stopping your Ryuukin Jakka." Aizen concluded, a pleased look crossing his face as he stared down at the Soutaichou. "Farewell, Yamamoto Genryuusai."

Uryuu's breath caught in his throat. A modded Arrancar, created just to deal with the Soutaichou… His bow swung unerringly to target the Hollow, black arrow leaping from his grasp the minute he had it in his sights.

The black arrow slammed through Wonderweiss' back, exploding into rippling black waves that carved a great gouge through the Hollow's torso. And yet, it merely used the momentum of the blow to launch itself forward at Yamamoto, ignoring the gaping wound in its back.

The Soutaichou lashed out before Uryuu could forge another arrow, the man's fist blasting another gouge into the Hollow's torso, leaving its halves connected by barely a ribbon of flesh.

"Hmmph. Thought you had me beat with Ryuujin Jakka sealed, did you?" Yamamoto asked with a contemptuous glance at Aizen, as he leapt up to land on the rubble near the traitor. "I'm almost in shock at such naivety. Why do you think that I alone have been the Soutaichou for the past thousand years? Because in all those thousand years, no Shinigami has ever been born that rivals me in strength."

Yamamoto struck at Aizen, only for Wonderweiss to intercept the blow.

Stunned, Uryuu lowered his bow to point at the ground, as he watched in awe as the old man fought the Hollow that continued to regenerate. It was… it was astonishing. To think that someone who Uryuu had always taken as more of a strategist — too old to fight, but too experienced and intelligent to retire, staying in a position of leadership in order to guide and lead the next generation — was capable of such utter destruction without his blade…

Even Ichigo and Shire were shocked out of their mutual rage, their awe at what the old man was capable of nearly palpable as they watched Yamamoto literally rip the Hollow to pieces. Nothing the Hollow threw at the Soutaichou seemed to phase the heavily scarred man, not even the flurry of punches thrown by the multitude of arms that erupted from the Hollow's huge shoulders.

( ***Hey! I wanna fight him!*** ) Shiro crowed. ( ***That'd be fucking awesome! So much better than fightin' that damn Kenpachi all the time, eh Aibo?*** )

(*I think that's a terrible idea,*) Ichigo responded, as the Hollow practically exploded from the Soutaichou's flurry of punches, parts raining down all around. (*I think he'd hand us our ass in moments.*)

Silently, Uryuu agreed with Ichigo's assessment. That beatdown had been _terrifying_ to watch, but also encouraging. Like they still had a chance after all. Surely, surely, even with Aizen's illusions, Yamamoto could win and Uryuu wouldn't have to attempt to win against a man he couldn't even see move.

"Pathetic. In the end, not everything had been carved out, had it," the old man spoke, as he stared down at the pieces of the Hollow, then glanced over his shoulder to glower at Aizen. "What an inhuman act."

"Inhuman? Hollows are souls void of purpose, existing only to devour other souls." Aizen responded. "What is inhuman about bestowing those souls with a purpose? The truly inhuman one here is you, who just crushed that Hollow so heartlessly."

"I have no intention of engaging in foolish arguments with the likes of you." Yamamoto declared, as he landed on the rubble strewn ground across from Aizen. "Go on spouting off all you want for now. This will all be over soon enough."

Aizen smirked. "Oh, but there was a point to my 'foolish arguments'. You just never seem to think there's anything important in anything I say… and so, you tend to miss details."

"What are you talking about?"

Uryuu frowned, as he picked through the conversation he had heard, trying to determine if Aizen was merely fishing for more time for something, or if he actually had a point strewn somewhere through his grandiose posturing.

(*Or maybe both?*) Ichigo mused. (*He does a lot of grandiose gestures, but a lot of it did have a point in the end.*)

"Think back upon my words. Estinguir. A Hollow created for the sole purpose of sealing Ryuujin Jakka's flames." Aizen tilted his head to the side, glancing down at the remains of the Hollow with a dispassionate stare. "A seal. A lock upon your blade, to prevent any new flames from being born. And yet, there were flames already free, weren't there? Now, where were those flames sealed?"

(*SHIT!*) Ichigo cursed, as he and Uryuu noticed the movement in the Hollow at the same time as the Soutaichou. It was ballooning up, inflating at a raid rate that didn't leave either of them with a pleasant feeling.

"Of course. The commander of the Gotei 13 would understand so quickly. Were all of that sealed power to be released without discretion, and be allowed to explode…" Aizen smirked, looking down upon the Soutaichou as the man threw himself forward upon the body of the Hollow. "You know quite well what would happen."

An explosion ripped through the city, the shock-wave nearly knocking Uryuu from his reishi platform. He fled the epicenter as quickly as he could, trying to escape the worst of the heat and crushing reiatsu. It tore at his body, searing his exposed skin pink and tender. The nauseating smell of burning hair made Uryuu gag, but he couldn't spare more than a moment's thought to pat his hair down to be sure his head wasn't on fire. He was a mouse before a forest fire, an inferno of power whipped into a frenzy and set loose without restraint, and it was all he could do to reached the edge of the fake town and shelter behind a remaining building.

(*Do you think jii-san survived?*) Ichigo's voice was quiet, shocked by the strength of what had been unleashed. Even Shiro was silent in the back of Uryuu's mind, silenced by the strength and unrestrained nature of what had just happened, though Uryuu was sure the crazy bastard was simply reveling in the explosion.

"We'll find out," Uryuu murmured as he felt the heat and crushing power dissipate. That was something, at least. Unlike the power that the Soutaichou had unleashed and continued to fuel, the explosion had (merely) been a single, brief release. A lightning bolt compared to an arc welder. Cautiously, he left the meagre shelter of the building and retraced his steps.

His mouth went dry as he saw Aizen standing where he had last seen the other, unruffled by the close proximity to the explosion. As Uryuu approached the two again, he felt a rush of relief as he saw the Soutaichou push himself up — the man was terribly burned, skin blackened and cracked, blood running freely down his body, and yet he remained alive and capable of moving.

"Had you not suppressed the flames as you did, they would have blown away your paltry barrier and reduced an area greater than this tiny town to ash, would it have not?" Aizen smiled down at the Soutaichou, one hand extended out in a grand sweeping gestured that encompassed the whole of the ruined town and beyond. "I thank you, Yamamoto Genryuusai. Thanks to you, _my world_ remains unscathed."

Uryuu's mind ground to a halt. His world? _His world?!_

He would purge Aizen from the universe before he let the delusional _bastard_ claim the Living World as his own!

Aizen approached the crater created by the explosion, gaze fixed on the battered and bloody form the Soutaichou.

Uryuu bared his teeth. His emerald bow shimmered, became his dao. The presences in his mind began to still.

"Yamamoto Genryuusai." Aizen drew his sword, a nasty smirk on his face as he stared down at the bloodied body of the Soutaichou. "I won't shame you by saying I will not bother killing you. For you are the very embodiment of Soul Society's history. I will, at least, give you the dignity of dying by my blade."

(*NO!*) Ichigo roared in his head.

He launched himself forward in a flicker of hirenkyaku.

" _ **Don't make me repeat myself, child.**_ You are a fool," the Soutaichou snarled. " **Hadou 96: Ittou Kasou.** "

A towering pillar of flame erupted right in front of Uryuu, scorching his face and burning off a few more strands of hair as he frantically back-tracked again. The air passing through his throat felt like shattered glass, and blood splattered across the reddened flesh of his hand when he coughed.

He had no time for that.

Aizen, burnt and scuffed by the pillar of flames, had also fled.

( ***Now!*** ) Shiro howled in his mind, the other two spirits in agreement.

Like when they were all aligned against Mayuri, Uryuu barely sensed himself move. The blade was heavy in his hand, weighted with purpose and determination to succeed. Everyone… _everyone_ was relying on him! Inoue-san, Sado-san, Ichigo's sisters, his annoying-but-ignorant peers at school… even his father. If Aizen wasn't defeated, then _everything_ would fall to this madman and his ambition.

That was no world Uryuu wanted to live in.

Driven by instinct, guided by the past.

" ** _Getsuga TENSHOU!_** " Uryuu screamed. Dao carving a path through the air. A ripple of dark emerald energy erupted, following the path of the blade. It expanded, lost none of its power, carved a high rise in half.

In the aftermath, Aizen remained standing, bowed by unbroken. Blood flowed from his shoulder, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. Not until Aizen was a broken, shattered remnant, like Wonderweiss after the Soutaichou was finished.

Uryuu landed, gathered himself, launched back at the madman. He could feel Shiro's insane grin stretching his lips, teeth bared in feral fury.

His next strike carved away more of the high rise. Made Aizen dodge.

Not enough. **Not enough!**

Even on the offensive like this, pouring his soul into every strike, his entire being aligned against the madman…

It wasn't enough.

His next strike was caught on Aizen's blade. The man smirked in his face, ignoring the blade bare inches from his neck.

"Is this all you can give?" Aizen asked. "You couldn't kill me this time either, little ryoka. Even using a stolen ability, with a stolen blade, you can barely touch me. That was your last chance, and you missed it."

Uryuu snarled, wrenching himself away from Aizen and bringing both hands to the tang of the dao blade. "I will make you **bleed** , Shinigami. I will make your soul **tear itself to shreds!** "

Aizen chuckled. "Such bold words from a little ryoka that can't even manage to wound me."

His gaze darted to the shoulder that he had wounded, and he opened his mouth to snap back at the madman that he _had_ hurt the other, and would _continue to do so_ , but…

The would was hissing closed, evaporating in a way both like and unlike Ulquiorra's high speed regeneration.

(*Why are there cracks in his body?*)

( ***I know! He's an earth clone!*** )

( _*An… earth clone?*_ )

( ***Yeah, it all fuckin' makes sense now, koneko! Aizen's a fuckin' ninja! He's even got that kami damn god-complex an' illusions an' everythin'. Just missin' that tacky mask to make everythin' right, y'know?*** )

( _*Ichigo…*_ )

A flush of sheepishness was the only thing he got from the (questionably) sane part of the soul. Uryuu was starting to doubt the 'sane' label.

"I should mention," Aizen spoke, interrupting the silent conversation, "that this is not high speed regeneration. Did you really think I was going to Hollowfy myself? This is merely a defense mechanism, a reaction to a tiny wound on its master's body."

Before Uryuu could say anything, or even process what Aizen was implying, the man had pulled his coat open to expose his bare chest.

(*Wait a minute, that's—*)

"The Hougyoku is mine," Aizen said. He brushed at the lingering traces of emerald reiatsu that clung to his shoulder wound and examined them. "Interesting. Your reiatsu is even more fascinating than Kurosaki Ichigo's.

"This is the only thing I did not expect in this whole play. After all, who would think a Quincy to be capable of merging with a Hybrid? But every fight, every struggle, every hurdle and stumble… it was all according to my will. And yet, in the final moments, Kurosaki Ichigo fell and somehow, you, a Quincy, rose to take his place." Aizen frowned at Uryuu, his brows furrowed and eyes piercing, as if he was trying to dissect Uryuu with just a stare. "I wonder why that was."

"Shut the fuck up, Shinigami!" Uryuu snarled, as he exerted his control and forced the dao back into the form of a bow. He raised it up and forged an arrow, though he couldn't quite grasp the same burning rage as before.

Aizen chuckled again, as he wagged a finger at Uryuu like a parent chastising a child. "Now, now, watch your language, young man. A child is supposed to listen to their elders, after all."

Never mind. There it was. His arrow twisted black in a heartbeat of blinding rage.

"My, what a temper you have!" Aizen chided from behind him. "And what a fascinating result! Harnessing pure Hollow reiatsu in such a way… I've never seen the like before."

Uryuu whirled around, another black arrow forming in a heartbeat and leaping from his bow.

Aizen's hand gripped his wrist, pushing his bow to point down at his feet. "You should be careful with that, little ryoka. You could put someone's eye out, you know."

"Hopefully yours!" Uryuu snapped as he tried to free himself.

"Now, now, behave." Aizen smirked at Uryuu, his grip unfaltering even when Uryuu clenched his right fist and struck first the man's elbow and then his shoulder. "I'm trying to figure out why you survived when Kurosaki-kun fell. After all, I had deemed Kurosaki Ichigo to be by far the best candidate for my research, and made it my goal to assist in his growth."

"Then obviously you did something wrong!" Uryuu yelled.

"I am aware," Aizen said with a frown, as he caught Uryuu's right wrist and absently twisted it around so that Uryuu was held off balance. "What made you capable of defeating Ulquiorra when Kurosaki-kun wasn't?"

Uryuu shifted, trying to find a weakness in the grips on his wrists. He had to be certain of his freedom before he tried to kick Aizen, or else he was going to fall and — based on Aizen's strength — wretch at least one of his shoulders from its socket. In an effort to keep Aizen talking, Uryuu said, "So, you're telling me that everything Kurosaki met was planned by you? Even me?"

The madman merely shrugged. "Believe what you will, but didn't you ever wonder why, when you snapped the Quincy bait, a Menos Grande appeared? Or why, when even you could barely sense Kuchiki Rukia's reiatsu when standing right next to her, she was discovered only just after Kurosaki-kun began to be accustomed to his powers? Did you actually believe that all his victories had anything to do with how hard he tried?"

(* **Tha** t ly **ing** b **ast** a **rd**!* ) Ichigo snarled, his voice tinged with a double echo. (*L **et** **me** at h **im**! **I'll** p **urge** h **is** s **ou** l fr **om** **exi** ste **nce**!* )

Uryuu bit his lip, trying to keep a lid on the rage rising in his heart. He had seen what the Soutaichou could do. Had seen what Aizen could do. Could easily see Aizen literally ripping him apart.

Reishi began to swirl about his body, little wisps of emerald power that teased at his clothes and tugged at his hair. A calculating glint appeared in Aizen's gaze, and Uryuu could feel the bones in his wrist begin to creak as the man unconsciously gripped tighter.

Tensing his right shoulder and arm as much as he could, Uryuu lashed out with a foot. Caught Aizen right in the groin. Didn't get the satisfaction of a scream.

Still, the man's hands reflexively released him as he doubled over and clenched his eyes shut against the pain.

Wisps of reishi caressed his face, driving his vision into a tunnel which only allowed him to see Aizen at the other end. Instead of retreating, he struck, bow changing into a blade aimed right at Aizen's neck.

Without looking up, Aizen raised one hand and caught the blade effortlessly.

"That… that was unsporting," Aizen muttered, coughing as he tried to force the words out. He took a deep breath and straightened up, a look of fury on his face than morphed into curiosity the moment he caught sight of Uryuu. "Oh? A Hollow mask? My, my, it seems someone has stolen more than just a blade and an attack."

"What?" Derailed from his anger by the apparent non sequitor, Uryuu stared back at Aizen instead of wrenching his sword free. As his vision lost the tunnel effect, he could feel a mask shatter and fall away in fragments of bone and wisps of reishi. Mind blank, he watched the bits fall and evaporate.

"Hmm. It doesn't appear that you can hold it very long, though. A pity," Aizen shrugged as he twisted his arm and tossed Uryuu back a few feet. His hand was whole, unmarred by using a sword blade to lever the other around. "Kurosaki-kun held such promise. It appears that your survival was nothing more than a fluke."

"Enough!" Uryuu shouted, as he pushed his glasses back up his nose and settled himself into a stance. "You dare claim to have manipulated events such that everything that ever happened to Kurosaki was at your will? You are a liar!"

(*Yeah!*) Ichigo interjected. (*Remember at the hill? He said that by the time he found out it was Rukia he was looking for, she was long gone in the real world!*)

"You didn't even know where Rukia was, how would you have been able to manipulate events that far back?" Uryuu questioned, as he tried to regather his resolve.

"You say the most interesting things sometimes," Aizen commented airily, as he brushed at his coat and took one small step forward, suppressing a wince as he did. "Just a moment ago, you said 'you're lying'. So, you're telling me that I'm lying to you now, but not when we first met back at the execution stand?"

Uryuu froze, his thoughts whirling through his mind — it was true. How could he say that Aizen was lying now, and not think that the man had been lying back then? If he would lie about something as big as this… why not other big lies?

(*Damn, you have a point,*) Ichigo muttered grumpily.

( _*So long as you do not begin to be swayed to his purpose,*_ ) Zangetsu chided both of them gently. ( _*If you cannot trust his words now, then you cannot trust any piece of information he gives without direct proof.*_ )

"Your feelings are understandable, I'll grant you that much." Aizen smiled at Uryuu, his empty hands spreading wide in a parody of a benevolent pose. "'Truth', 'lies', nothing like that ever existed in this broken world of ours, only undeniable reality. Living things tend to cling to certain realities as 'truth', in order to shut their eyes and defend their sense of self and sanity in a world that cares nothing for them or their troubles. Only by discarding these pitiful beliefs, these blinders of 'truth', can one grasp at the true, dispassionate reality behind the comfortable 'truths'."

As Aizen rambled on, Uryuu scowled at the man's superior tone of voice, at how absolutely certain he was of what he was saying, no matter how fantastic his words sounded.

( _*You must remember,*_ ) Zangetsu spoke, ( _*that what he is saying applies to him as well. If people consider certain views as true in order to blind themselves, then how much more does that apply to him? He, too, is a living creature, and by his own admission would have to have lost his sanity in order to find the 'undeniable reality'.*_ )

(*Not entirely sure he didn't,*) Ichigo mused. (*But that just makes him more dangerous, doesn't it? If he's not ruled by sanity any longer.*)

When Aizen finally shut up, looking down at him with a superior smirk that Uryuu just wanted to punch right off the man's face, Uryuu took the moment to speak up.

"Let me ask you something. You said that you chose Kurosaki as the 'best subject' for your research… why? What was so special about him?" Uryuu shifted his stance and squared his shoulders. Part of him truly did want to know, but another part shied away from the knowledge. What had made Ichigo the better option? Why had he been passed over? Was it just the monstrous reserves of power? "If you've been watching since he met Rukia, then when, exactly, was he chosen?"

The smile dropped from Aizen's face as he realized that Uryuu had ignored him. His eyes narrowed, his hands returning to his sides, and for a moment Uryuu was certain the madman would destroy him right then and there instead of answering his question.

The moment passed. The smile returned to Aizen's face. "Right from the start."

"Just give me a fucking straight answer, you bast—"

"Listen to what I'm saying. I said 'from the **start** '." Aizen grinned, all teeth and menace. "I've known about him since the moment he was _born_. He was always somewhat of an enigma — after all, how many people can say they're the son of a Shinigami and a—"

Suddenly, another Shinigami interposed himself between Uryuu and Aizen, the brief flicker of movement from both the only sign that Aizen had dodged a sword swing that was too fast for Uryuu to even register. It took a second swing, and a full look at the Shinigami's face, for Uryuu's mind to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. He'd only rarely seen the _entirely human_ Kurosaki Isshin a few times in his life, after all, and… and…

(*Goat-face's a Shinigami?!*) Ichigo cried in disbelief. Even Shiro went still in his head, watching as Isshin retreated a few steps to stand between Aizen and Uryuu.

"That's enough outta you, Aizen," Kurosaki Isshin declared, his voice serious.

"Kuro…saki-sensei?" Uryuu stared in disbelief at what he was seeing. At what went against everything he knew — and, apparently, everything that _Ichigo_ knew, if the other's sputtering was anything to go by.

He took a step back, as Ichigo's father turned towards him, eyes shadowed and menacing as the man advanced.

"H-hey, what—"

(*DODGE!*)

It was too late.

Pain bloomed in Uryuu's forehead as he suddenly flew backwards through the air, too stunned by current events to have the presence of mind to stop himself. The edge of the building whipped past him, and he only briefly managed to grab at the edge, instincts firing in an attempt to save himself. But Ichigo's father planted a boot right in his chest, sending him flying backwards with even more force that before.

Off the roof. Across the ruined landscape.

Rubble pulverized under his body as he finally 'landed', sending up a plume of dust that obscured his sight briefly.

Uryuu lay there, on his back, staring up at the sky as he panted, trying to return air to his abused lungs. That single, violent encounter had made him _ache_ , from his teeth to his toes, and the pulverized rubble under his body felt _wonderful_. He wasn't air-born, or being kicked around, or being burnt or crushed under ridiculous amounts of pressure.

Yeah. His new bed was a godsend.

(*Goat-face is… a Shinigami?*) Ichigo's voice was soft, almost broken. (*But… how?*)

Uryuu barely mustered the energy to shrug, as he stared up at the vivid blue sky above him. It was pretty. Maybe he should use that color for his clothes next? "Who kn—gfffff!"

A rough hand clamped over his face, a knee settled across his chest, and suddenly the previous air that he'd been gasping at was _cut off from him again_. Frantic, Uryuu began to struggle, expecting the worst, expecting Kurosaki-sensei to kill him in revenge for his son.

" _Shut up!_ " Kurosaki-sensei whispered harshly, as his hand clamped tighter over Uryuu's face. " _You've got questions, I get it! I've got a lot, too! But you've gotta shut up right now or—_ "

In his panic and inability to breath, Uryuu felt his control over his body slip. Felt Ichigo shift forward and take control. It was like staring through a window, as he watched one of his legs lash up and plant a kick firmly in Kurosaki-sensei's face, knocking the man back and away from him.

" _I get that we're tryin' to be sneaky!_ " Ichigo snarled at his father. "But Uryuu couldn't fuckin' breath you moron!"

"Oh, uh… my b— **ICHIGO?!** "

"I thought we were tryin' to be sneaky, Goat-face!" Ichigo snapped, as he stood up and rubbed at his face, accidentally dislodging Uryuu's glasses in the process. (*Eh? Damn, Uryuu, how the hell do you even see?*)

( _*I see very well with my glasses on, moron, so put them back!*_ ) Uryuu snapped. It felt… odd. Wrong. To be staring at the world through a glass window, instead of in control. He could still feel enough of his body to feel how Ichigo unconsciously stood like he normally did, balanced as a swordsman instead of an archer, and judging by the confused look that Ichigo's father was giving them… well.

"I think…" Kurosaki-sensei spoke slowly, as he stared at his son-in-another's-body, watching as Ichigo clumsily resettled Uryuu's glasses in approximately the right place, "that my presence isn't the only surprise here."

"Ahaha, yeah, about that," Ichigo paused to look his father other, then shook his head. "Look, it wasn't Uryuu's fault this happened—"

Ichigo's father held up a hand, stopping his son. "We'll talk later. I'm sure there's tons you want to ask me, but… after I put—"

"Whatever," Ichigo grunted, looking away. "I have nothing to ask. If you didn't tell me anything up til now, then you had to've had a reason, and that's your business."

Uryuu stilled in his attempts to retake control of his body. This… this was important to the two, even if he felt very, very uncomfortable to be 'sitting in the backseat' as it were, watching this private moment. Ichigo's father may have kept things from his son, but what parent didn't? And…

And when it came down to it, Ichigo's father had shown up. Shown up to protect his son, when he could have continued to pretend to be a simple human.

"Truth is," Ichigo continued softly, voice carefully even despite not looking at his father, "I don't know _how_ to ask. I don't know how I'm supposed to walk into your heart and ask, without tracking mud everywhere on my way in… so I'll wait. Until you wanna talk about it, or until you think I… _we_ … can handle it, you don't have to tell me anything."

A look of surprise flitted over Kurosaki-sensei's face, before the man smiled. "Now where did my son learn to talk like such an adult?"

Ichigo shrugged awkwardly. "I stole that, actually. I got told the same thing myself, once… I just remember how relieved I felt after hearing it, so… Ah. Hey, I appreciate the hit back there, dad. It's… it's been a long day."

( _*Well I didn't! That hurt!*_ )

Ichigo grinned slightly, "Though, Uryuu isn't very appreciative."

Kurosaki-sensei snorted in amusement. "Ryuuken never did either. And, for the record, I _headbutted_ you."

( _*Pardon, what? Your father is actual friends with mine, not just colleagues?*_ )

"What the hell does it matter?!" Ichigo exclaimed, aiming the comment at both his father and Uryuu. "Oh, what the hell ever. Uryuu's gettin' restless — I only meant to take control long enough to get you to back off, Goat-face."

And with that, Uryuu felt himself shoved back in control hard enough that he stumbled forward slightly. Grumbling to himself about stupid idiots, he readjusted his glasses to sit properly again, then glanced warily at Kurosaki-sensei.

"Huh," the man mused as he watched. "It's really easy to tell which of you's in control. Did you know that could happen?"

"Outside of Ichigo's insane half muscling forward to fight? No," Uryuu shook his head.

Kurosaki-sensei hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "I won't ask what happened. Maybe later we can all sit down and have that conversation Ichigo and I were talkin' about, along with what happened to you two. But, for now…"

The man gestured back in the direction of Aizen, one hand poised to take down the barrier that Uryuu hadn't noticed being erected around them. Clearly, he was waiting to see if Uryuu was recovered enough to resume the fight.

Uryuu took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, briefly grimacing at the feeling of spikes instead of his naturally straight strands — along with the brittle crumble of burnt tips. He ran a mental check of his body, fearing the worst after everything he'd been through. Bruises covered his body — he had a feeling his entire back was going to be one huge bruise in a short time — and it still hurt a bit to breath. His skin seemed to have healed from the flame exposure already, and he otherwise had full use of his limbs.

He clamped down on his emotions, on the part of his brain that just wanted to break down in a gibbering _wreck_ at what had happened in this horrific day that refused to end. There was no time to think, no time to react to events yet. Aizen needed to fall, and to do that, Uryuu had to be in some semblance of control.

Once more sure of himself, he nodded sharply to Kurosaki-sensei and the man dropped the barrier. The two of them raced off in flashes of shunpo and hirenkyaku, back to Aizen, back to the fight.

Except that as soon as they left the barrier, it was obvious that Aizen had gained a companion.

(*One of the traitors,*) Ichigo snarled, as they approached.

Indeed, Uryuu could see the silver haired former Captain standing on the roof next to Aizen, apparently chatting with the man.

A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he spared a glance at Ichigo's father long enough for the man to gesture sharply at the second man. Uryuu took a breath, reigned in his impulse to argue, and nodded his acceptance. He would allow Isshin to fight Aizen, while he dealt with the newcomer.

He split away to circle around, suppressing his reiatsu as tightly as possible when it was still running wild through his body. He achieved only minimal success — and managed to feel like he was stuffing himself so full he would explode — but even that would have to do, given how little time he actually had to practice with this new, monstrous supply of power.

It wasn't enough. He knew that as soon as he took his position, drew his bow, and fired. His suppression wasn't nearly enough.

The man deflected the glowing green arrow with his sword, then looked straight at him— or, well, in his direction? Uryuu could never tell, with the way the other's eyes were squinted constantly. How could he even see, or was he just rely on reiatsu sensing?

Taking a deep breath to center himself, Uryuu felt the bow in his hand morph into the dao. He launched himself across the distance between them as quickly as he could, looking the blitz the Captain. Blade met blade, ringing through the air like a bell. A ripple of dark green reiatsu shot from the edge of Uryuu's blade at the moment of contact — an unnamed Getsuga Tenshou that didn't manage to do more than tear the other's clothing. Most of the attack aimed at the traitor's chest had been deflected by the man's own blade.

The building below them crumbled, and the two leapt away to land on the rubble covered ground below.

"Heh, it's been a while since I've seen you, little ryoka," the traitor stated, as he held his blade to the side. "I'm kinda disappointed I didn't get ta fight the kiddo again, but we all gotta make due with what we're handed, eh? Either way, you ain't gettin' any mercy from me."

(*Oh, this guy!*) Ichigo exclaimed. Uryuu felt the sensation of Ichigo leaning forward, as if trying to get a better look at the traitor. (*I remember him now, sort. Well, that sword at least. Wonder if he's actually gunna pay attention to the fight this time.*)

Uryuu adjusted his grip on his sword, settling into a stronger stance borrowed from Ichigo's instincts, even though a lingering sense of _wrongness_ pervaded the action.

"Oh? That stance looks familiar. Tell me, d'ya remember meetin' me, little ryoka?"

"No," Uryuu spoke sharply. "I don't remember you in the slightest."

"Eh? So cruel," the traitor's expression morphed into an exaggerate pout. "How can you not remember me, Gin Ichimaru? But you got the looks of the kiddo now, sorta. So part a'him must be you, right?"

Uryuu blinked, and gave Gin a deadpan stare. "Are you a stalker? Because that sounds like a stalker's comment."

Gin's free hand rose to his chest. "What, little ol' me, a stalker? So cruel!"

"You're not helping my opinion of you."

Gin shrugged, then smiled that fox-like smile and flourished his sword. "D'ya know how long Shinsou here can stretch?"

Knocked a bit off balance by the non sequitor, Uryuu gave the traitor a puzzled look. "No."

"A hundred sword lengths. When I was little, they even called me the 'Hundred-sword Killer'. Nice title, eh?"

"What does this have to do with anything?" Uryuu grumbled as he shifted his stance slightly, not taking his eyes off of Gin even as he incorporated the new information into his battle plan. A sword that long, even he would have problems with distance.

(*Then we need to get closer,*) Ichigo murmured. (*We have the advantage up close like that.*)

"So just how far d'ya think my bankai can go?"

(*Is he seriously just gunna keep yakking away?*) Ichigo asked incredulously.

"Probably," Uryuu murmured aloud, as he prepared to dart forward. He then directed his next words at Gin. "Are you going somewhere with this?"

The man just smirked. "What a killjoy. Oh well! I guess I'll tell ya in metric so it'll sink inta that lil' head o'yers. Thirteen kilometers."

(*Pardon?*)

( ***HAHAHAHAHAHA! WHAT A TRIP!*** ) Shiro cackled. ( ***That's a kickass blade ta take down armies!*** )

(*And completely impractical for fighting a single person. Why does he even think this is a good idea?*)

"Heh, went in one ear and came out th'other, didn't it?" Gin interrupted the voices in Uryuu's head. His face sported a gigantic grin as he held his blade out with a flourish. "I'll show ya, then. Here we go… an' this time 'round, there won't be no holding back, little ryoka."

Gin's reiatsu rose sharply, as his eyes cracked open enough that Uryuu could actually see the bright sky blue of the man's eyes.

"Bankai," Gin declared. "Kamishini no Yari."

Uryuu lunged to the side, narrowly avoiding the razor sharp blade that ripped through the space he had been standing in. Behind him, buildings were shorn cleanly in two, and the sound of collapsing structures was a counterpoint to the singing of Kamishini no Yari as it swept back to come at him again.

He raised his own blade, grunting as the impact vibrated through his hands and up his arms. Gin pulled his sword away, and Uryuu noted with trepidation that the man's bankai had carved a notch in his blade

(*You need bankai!*) Ichigo growled, as Uryuu frantically ducked below the singing blade, not even bothering to attempt to block it again.

( _*Do I even have a bankai?*_ ) Uryuu responded, as he leapt over the next swipe. A quick pulse of hirenkyaku let him avoid the upwards slash that would have bisected him if he hadn't dodged. For all his disbelief at the idea that Kamishini no Yari could be a decent antipersonnel sword instead of just anti-army, Gin was incredibly adept at targeting him.

(*Er… I dunno?*) Ichigo sheepishly responded. (*Hey, old man! Does Uryuu have a bankai?*)

( _*That is a question best answered by you.*_ )

( ***We ain't got time fer yer damn evasions! Koneko's about ta get skewered an' that current blade a'his ain't gunna cut it!*** ) Shiro ranted. He briefly became silent, then snarled in rage as Uryuu barely dodged the next strike. ( ***Fuck it! Gimme!*** )

Unceremoniously, Uryuu was shoved into the backseat, as Shiro snatched control between one second and the next.

"Yeah! This is what I'm talkin' about!" Shiro crowed, as he disappeared in a buzz of sonido to the other side of Gin. He held the dao to the side, a creepy grin stretching across Uryuu's face. " **Bankai! Enshroud the world in a moonless night, Kakure Ichigo!** "

Power engulfed him in a whirlwind of emerald and black reiatsu, scattering dust up into the sky and obscuring his sight of Gin. The man had paused his attacks as soon as Shiro had proclaimed bankai, his eyes wide and the perpetual fox-like grin missing from his face.

(*What the actual fuck! How did you just do that?!*)

( ***Eh, well, I'm you, right? Also, fuck dying.*** ) Shiro frowned down at their shared body. Uryuu's white clothing had vanished, replaced by a midnight blue long coat with a white cross across the front, black pants tucked into knee high black boots, and… he glanced over his shoulder, then rolled his eyes. Yeah, it figured. The damn kitten really did have a thing for capes and mantles, it figured any bankai would get something like that added.

( _*So what if I like mantles?*_ ) Uryuu groused, as he glared at the snickering Ichigo. What would a punk like Ichigo know about the finer things in life.

"Tch." Shiro shoved the midnight blue mantle out of his way and brought the blade to bear. At least this, he noted, was similar enough to Ichigo's bankai blade that using it shouldn't be a problem. It was a long daito, slightly more curved than Ichigo's, and with a few inches of the back sharpened like the dao. A pleased grin stretched his lips as he realized exactly what that meant for him.

He raised the black blade, stopping the sweep of Kamishini no Yari in its tracks with a ringing clang. In the silence that fell, the echo of tumbling buildings and distant explosions from Goat-face's ongoing combat with Aizen sounded even louder than before. Most pleasing of all, his blade remained whole.

"Th'hell're you surprised?" Shiro mocked Gin, as the other stared at him, still unsmiling and still with his eyes open. "I got a bankai, you got a bankai, what bit o' that didn't'cha follow?"

Cackling, Shiro vanished in a buzz of sonido. Gin stumbled forward, balanced lost as his sword suddenly continued moving.

Shiro dropped the daito, grasping at the black chain that ran from the hilt, and started to swing it over his head. Black reiatsu gathered along the edge of the blade, until it looked like he had a solid black disk over his head, instead of a swinging blade.

Gin lashed out with his blade. Shiro ducked, released the chain, watched his blade whip through the space between them. His fingers remained tangled in the loops of chain at the end, directing the blade as it flew. The reiatsu rippled forward; an unnamed Getsuga Tenshou more powerful than any Uryuu had ever used.

With a vicious grin, Shiro yanked his sword back to him as soon as he felt it hit, hopefully ripping a large hole in the smiling bastard in the process. Blood dripped from his blade's tip, scattering like rain across the dusty landscape between them.

As the smoke cleared, Gin had one hand pressed to his side, blood dripping between his fingers from the large slash and the hole where Shiro's blade had pierced through. "Well, ya really are a creepy lil' ryoka, aren't ya? How many personalities ya got in that stripy lil' head a' yours?"

"Tch, does it really matter? C'mon, fight me!" Shiro yelled, as he launched himself forward in a flurry of strikes.

And suddenly, he wasn't fighting the absurdly long blade. No, his strikes were being blocked by the same short wakizashi Gin had begun the fight with. Snarling at the sudden change in circumstances, Shiro leapt backwards and disappeared in another buzz of sonido.

(*When did he contract it? I didn't see it change, even though we were in mid-combat when it happened.*)

Shiro shrugged, uncaring of the circumstances. He brushed the mantle out of his way again, and began to spin his blade at his side, instead of over his head.

"Alrighty then," Gin flippantly spoke, as he gestured towards Shiro with his blade. "Didn't really expect that, ya know? Seems my bankai got stopped pretty easy by yours, so I guess I just gotta stick to the basics wit' you."

Gin launched himself forward almost too quickly for Uryuu to keep up with. Shiro, however, had no such issue — Uryuu's near identical compression-style bankai was hardly a challenge. It was a problem in terms of their current body, Shiro noted as he yanked his blade into position and grasped the hilt again.

The gathered Getsuga Tenshou remained in his sword, crackling and seething as he blocked Gin's flurry of strikes. He could already feel the strain on Uryuu's body, the crushing weight of internalized reiatsu taking its toll immediately on the unaccustomed form. Combined with the speeds he was pushing it to, Shiro knew he had to finish this quickly, or risk this body breaking down completely.

Gritting his teeth, Shiro pushed everything he had into blocking and dodging. Unnamed Getsuga Tenshou after Getsuga Tenshou rippled free of his blade every time the edge was aligned with Gin's body. It forced the other to twist and dodge constantly, though at these ranges it was impossible to dodge everything. Blood dripped from Gin's body, from hundreds of tiny cuts and a few larger wounds like the one in Gin's side.

The constant use of Getsuga Tenshou helped to relieve some of the pressure, keeping their reiatsu at a (mostly) safe level for their body. It impacted his speed, made him sluggish and react a tiny bit slower than he expected, but that couldn't be helped.

"Quite a blade you got there," Gin commented breezily, as he continued his flurry of strikes and dodges. "Even on the offensive like this, it feels like mine's about ta snap."

"Good!" Shiro snarled in Gin's face. "Jest let it fucking break! Make my goddamn day already!"

(*Shiro! Watch out for his blade! I don't think he dropped bankai, just shortened his blade again, so—*)

The warning came barely in time. Shiro hastily deflected the point away from his chest, felt the blade pierce his shoulder instead. He hissed, ripping himself free and disappeared in a burst of sonido. Dodged a second strike. Shunted the pain to the back of his mind.

In midstep, he changed directions. Raced towards Gin. Shiro slashed aside Gin's sword with a brutal strike that sent the man's arm wide, then pivoted and lashed out at Gin's right knee with a kick aimed to snap it.

Gin hastily pulled back, disappearing in a leap and flick of shunpo to land atop one of the few remaining buildings in the midst of the ruined landscape.

"What a cheap bankai," Shiro taunted, as he used the pause to catch his breath. This body wasn't that of a swordsman, and didn't have the same time of stamina. His sword arm was beginning to ache with unaccustomed strain, and it was only force of will keeping his hand from trembling. "You tryin' ta imply something wit' how fast that thing contracts?"

"Nooooo…" Gin's perpetual grin had returned, and his eyes were once more slits. "Yer a crude one, ain't'cha? Well, I guess there's no point in keepin' it quiet, now that the cat's outta the bag. Lemme just explain Kamishini no Yari's speed to you."

Casually, the man tucked his blade under his left arm, then brought both hands up in front of his body and… clapped them together quickly.

"Did you see? Five hundred times what I just did." Gin's grin widened as he took hold of his blade once more. "Kamishini no Yari isn't the 'longest zanpakutou'. It's the 'fasted zanpakutou.' But even knowin' that, you have no chance for victory, kiddo."

"Shit!" Shiro exclaimed, as he frantically blocked the extending blade, again and again and again. He started to gain his own collection of wounds, tiny scratches and deeper cuts, souvenirs of moments he couldn't quite redirect Gin's blade quickly enough. The strain of bankai on this unfamiliar body continued to mount, dragging at his reflexes and adding more to keep track of.

( _*Maybe you shouldn't have taunted him,*_ ) Uyruu comment, as he held himself poised to leap back into control the moment Shiro faltered. He hadn't contested Shiro's dominance out of self preservation, for fear a moment of distraction would mean their mutual death. The combat was too fast, the bankai unfamiliar — if he could even use it himself —, and the stakes too high for him to throw a fit right now.

But even he, divorced from his body's senses, could feel the strain that was beginning to pile up. If this was something he could do himself, it was clear he would need to practice until he bled.

(*I think we need to fight,*) Ichigo suddenly spoke up, his words distracting Uryuu from his worried watching. (*Before you can get bankai, I mean. We'll need to fight.*)

( _*Didn't we already?*_ ) Uryuu asked, confused.

(*No, I mean, in the real world. Like a Shinigami does it. Or… that's what I think? I had to fight Zangetsu in order to gain bankai, and Yoruichi said it's the way Shinigami do it.*)

"Will you two shaddup?!" Shiro yelled, as he barely deflected Gin's blade and landed on a barely intact rooftop. He registered two others there as well, but did little more than place his back to the one his subconscious labeled as 'ally'. "Tryin' not ta fuckin' die here!"

"I-Ichigo..?"

"Th'hell?! You too? Shaddup, Goat-face!" Shiro snapped as he glanced over his shoulder as Ichigo's father, startled out of his battle focus by the other's voice. "Jes stay outta my fuckin' way, idiot!"

Except that Gin had stopped attacking. He landed nearby, his stupid perpetual smirk as wide as ever despite the blood that flowed freely down his body. "'Scuze me, Aizen-taichou. Did I interrupt your grand speech?"

"Not at all," Aizen responded, as tendrils of power began to flow out from the Hougyoku embedded in his chest. "I had but reached the end."

"Eh? Oi, Goat-face, th'hell's goin' on?!"

"How should I know?!" Kurosaki Isshin yelled back. "You flew in right as I was thinking I had no idea what the hell is going on here!"

"Th'hell you mean ya don't know, idiot? You were fightin' him jes now, weren't ya?" Shiro snapped back, flailing his arms at the man that had fathered his Aibou. What an utterly useless man, even as a Shinigami! In fact, Shiro was pretty sure the man's competence had dropped as soon as he put those damn robes on!

"Enough already! If you wanna know so bad, then ask Aizen, damnit! What a pain in the ass you are, just like Ichigo!"

Aizen's chuckle broke their glaring contest, bringing both of their attention back to the man who had started the argument between them. "Indeed. The 'Hougyoku' is quite a well deserved name! For it truly does possess the power to altogether annihilate the horizon where divine and earthly meet!"

* * *

Yaay, another chapter done! The next one will be shorter than this, even with the typical expansion that goes on as I edit.

I hope the first part with Aizen and Yamamoto is okay. The original rough of it was... well, _rough_ , with Uryuu mostly as a bystander that kept thinking-about-but-not-quite getting involved. I tried to smooth out the hot-and-cold feel of him there, since I had him switching between enraged and apathetic between one sentence and the next, but I'm not sure how well that worked. It's an important moment in the manga, but Ichigo just sits there along the edges and gets yelled at once or twice and then attacks after Yamamoto does his 'suicide strike'. Boring.

ALSO! If anyone can figure out a better name for Uryuu's bankai, please suggest it. I know only enough Japanese to sound out hiragana. I want to use Ichigo in it because (Tremor230 is a horrible person who feeds plot bunnies!) of reasons, but I don't want to use "Shiro Ichigo", so I picked "kakure" which supposedly means "hidden" so it roughly means "Hidden Guardian" which I think is appropriate, but if anyone can think of a better way to say it, speak up please.

Thankfully, my December was actually a lot nicer than November, along with some really happy news! I mentioned last time that my parents had an auction because they're moving to a smaller house? Well, it looks like their big ol' rambling farm house (I'm not kidding, that thing is over 3000 sq feet, with 10 foot ceilings and 8 foot tall doorways. Awesome house to grow up in as a kid.) has sold already, after barely a half year on the market. Awesome!

Ja ne!


	5. Despair

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and those people/companies that publish Bleach. I own nothing except my meagre attempts at playing in his sandbox.

Warnings: Pretty much everybody's mouth, described violence (it IS Bleach, after all), mostly canon up to the fight with Butterfly-Aizen then kiss canon goodbye. Also unbetaed

Sorry for not posting yesterday. Screaming migraines will do that.

( _Everything's green_ ) - Subconscious flow of thoughts  
( _*Why is everything green?*_ ) - Uryuu actively thinking  
(*Because it is.*) - Ichigo actively thinking  
( ***Who th'hell cares?!*** ) - Shiro actively thinking  
( _*Peace, hollow.*_ ) - Old Man Zangetsu actively thinking

* * *

Shiro opened his mouth to make a smart-aleck remark — something about ultimate power and the typical result of that — when a shot of light ripped through Aizen's chest from above. His mouth closed with a snap, and he and Goat-face looked up into the sky to look for the source.

"So you have arrived, Urahara Kisuke!" Aizen grit out, as he pressed one hand to the hole in his chest and glared up at Urahara.

The man stood in the sky above them all, one hand holding his ugly bucket hat in place and the other holding what looked like a gun pointed straight at Aizen. "It's been a long time, Aizen-san, and my, what a truly extraordinary form you wear."

"This is nothing," Aizen brushed the comment off. The wound that Urahara had inflicted on him was already healing, closing up in dark wisps of reishi. "Midway through evolution is always an ugly point."

"Nobody said anything about you being ugly," Urahara said softly. "It's just a bit of a surprise to see you finally fused with the hougyoku."

Aizen's smug expression made Shiro itch to punch it in, but he could feel his grasp on their shared body weakening. The adrenaline was fading from the body's system, and without it's masking effect, he could feel every cut and bruise, every inch of burning lung and trembling limb. What's more, without combat to allow him to release some of the pent up reiatsu, it was gathering more and more quickly, building to a point where Uyruu's bones were beginning to suffer the strain. Already he was pretty sure some of the kitten's bones were cracked, especially those in Uyruu's legs, where Shiro had to reinforce the body the most.

"This isn't a fusion," Aizen chided Urahara. "Rather, refer to it by what it is — I have subdued the hougyoku that you failed to master."

His Hollow regeneration was doing what it could, hampered by the sluggish way the body reacted to it and the already overwhelming saturation of reiatsu in every limb. It was like pouring cold water on a burned hand, while leaving the hand submerged in boiling water; even the remedy would become the cause given long enough.

So, with the same abruptness that he took over control, Shiro shoved Uryuu back in control and retreated into the kitten's mind to rest.

"Unable to master… this is true," Urahara admitted, as he settled atop a lone remaining corner of a building that overlooked the roof where the other four were standing. "If you are talking about the past."

Uryuu shivered as he regained control, feeling the abrupt dissolution of the bankai form that Shiro had called forth. It left him feeling tired and weak, like he had run a marathon over a mountain, despite his barely dented reserves of power. Gritting his teeth against the feeling, Uryuu wove his power about his body, calling forth a full body ransoutengai in order to continue fighting despite the exhaustion in his limbs.

"The past? Aren't you going to admit defeat?" Aizen asked, then shook his head slightly. "No, that shouldn't be question."

Kurosaki-sensei shot him a concerned look, though none of the others on the field seemed to notice — or at least none reacted to — his abrupt swap.

(*I wouldn't bet on it,*)Ichigo murmured. (*I don't know about Gin, but Hat'n'Clogs probably did, and Aizen might've if he wasn't too caught up in his posturing.*)

Abruptly, Aizen disappeared, and Uryuu tensed, expecting to see the man appear in front of him, to taunt him once more, but…

"Urk…"

The soft sound drew his gaze upwards, where Aizen stood in front of Urahara, sword embedded deep in the shopkeeper's chest.

(*Hat'n'Clogs!*)

"Because you've forever lost the chance to drive the hougyoku," Aizen said, a satisfied expression on his face.

Urahara's body disappeared in a swirl of reishi, leaving a surprised Aizen standing with his sword thrust through air. The moment didn't last long, however, as Urahara appeared behind him, one hand extended.

"Rikujyou Kouro," Urahara declared, as reiatsu flared around the two of them and six rods of light appeared to pierce through Aizen's waist, pinning his arms at his side and immobilizing him.

"I've seen this in Yammy's battle report. How careless, to never think you would use this cheap trick on me," Aizen spoke calmly, as if his current position was just a minor inconvenience. "So, what are you going to do with me now? Surely this isn't the extent of your plan?"

Urahara glowered down at the traitorous Captain, as he held out his hand again. "With this level of bakudou? Why do you think I would settle for just one? Bakudou 63, Sajyou Sabaku!"

Thick ropes of yellow light spiraled forth from Urahara's hand, coiling about Aizen's upper body and further pinning the man in place. Apparently unsatisfied with that, Urahara continued incanting.

"Bakudou 73, Kuyou Shibari!"

Eight swirling black holes with purple outlines appeared in a circle surrounding Aizen, with a ninth materializing right over the spot where the hougyoku rested in Aizen's chest.

Aizen grimaced, bound and restrained by multiple bakudou, while Urahara stood above him and began to chant, his left hand extended with his cane gripped tight.

"Limit of the thousands hands, respectful hands, unable to touch the darkness. Shooting hands unable to reflect the blue sky. The road that basks in light, the wind that ignited the embers, time that gathers when both are together, there is no need to be hesitant, obey my orders. Light bullets, eight bodies, nine items, book of heaven, diseased treasure, great wheel, grey fortress tower. Aim far away, scatter brightly and cleanly when fired."

Uryuu blinked as ten brilliant pink shafts of light formed around Urahara as the shopkeeper chanted. The sky darkened around them, becoming nearly oppressive with power as the kidou reached completion.

(*That's… woah,*) Ichigo spoke softly, as he stared through Uryuu's eyes to watch. (*I didn't realize Hat'n'Clogs was good like that.*)

Uryuu had to silently agree — the shopkeeper put forward such a childish, playful guise that it was hard to remember that he was once a Captain of the Gotei 13, and an inventor and mad scientist to boot. But it was times like this, with Urahara's eyes shadowed by his ridiculous hat, incanting kidou that made even Aizen's eyes widen in shock, that shoved that reality firmly back in their faces.

"You think I'll let you use that hadou?" Aizen growled, as he struggled against the bindings.

"Too late," Urahara spoke dispassionately, as he gestured firmly with his left hand. "Hadou 91, Senjyu Kouten Taihou."

With those words, the ten shafts of bright pink light speared through the sky, converging on Aizen and colliding in an explosion of so bright the pink turned white. Uryuu turned away, hand raised to shield his eyes, and yet he still had to blink spots from his vision once the overwhelming brightness relented.

Surely that had done it. Surely, with Aizen pinned down so firmly, held so tightly, there was no way he could have avoided that. And with no way to avoid that, surely such an overwhelming attack had done what no one else had yet managed?

"Aizen-san," Urahara said, as he stared down at the spot that Aizen had once occupied. "You really became careless because of your new found power."

(*No!*)

( ***THAT GODDAMN BASTARD!*** )

Startled by the furious shouts in his mind, Uryuu tore his gaze away from wisps of smoke that continued to rise from the spot that Urahara had nuked, searching the sky for what had caught Ichigo and Shiro's attention.

His mouth went dry as his gaze landed on Aizen, standing behind Urahara with wisps of power clinging to him as his body rebuilt itself in front of their eyes. Half of the man's face had been erased, along with a good chunk of his chest, but it didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. Instead, reiatsu swirled around Aizen's body, steadily rebuilding what had been lost, while the hougyoku glittered dark and implacable in the center of his torso.

"You're right," Aizen growled, as Urahara whipped around in an attempt to face him in time. "And you're too late."

Ichigo gave a wordless snarl of frustration, as they watched impotently as Aizen swept his left hand, knife-like, across Urahara's chest faster than the eye could follow, a spray of dark blood erupting in the wake of the action.

Urahara stumbled backwards, too stunned to do more than press a hand to the wound carved through his chest.

"Allow me to be less careless, though I see no reason to treat you like a threat," Aizen smugly stated, as he lowered his hand, flicking his fingers to red them of a few clinging droplets of blood. "I can feel the strength of the hougyoku in my body, empowering me far beyond my previous level. I am now invicible, so I see no reason to dodge a level 90 kidou anymore."

"Oh no, I'm not talking about you dodging the kidou," Urahara finally gathered himself enough to speak, eyes narrowed and in control of himself once more despite the blood that continued to drip down his chest. "If it was the older you, you wouldn't be letting me try my attacks one by one, would you?"

A bright light erupted from Aizen's wrists and hands, like shackles despite not even touching the Shinigami's skin.

"This…" Aizen stated down at his hands in shock, genuine surprise and a touch of fear shining in his face and widened eyes as he took in what Urahara had done to him this time.

"This is a seal," Urahara continued, a dark and brutal expression flitting across his face as he stared at Aizen. "It seals the reiatsu flowing out of your palms, bottling it all up inside you."

(*Remind me to never get on Hat'n'Clog's genuinely bad side,*) Ichigo murmured, as they watched Aizen erupt in a pillar of incandescent power. (*He puts up with a lot of shit, but…*)

Uryuu shivered, completely agreeing with Ichigo. Being immolated by your own power was a brutal way to go ( _tearing pain and roiling acid flaying him alive—_ ), but hopefully it had been the solution necessary. But… but he wasn't going to get his hopes up. Not after Aizen had taken a level 90 kidou to the face (literally) and survived.

Urahara glanced down at the three of them, and Uryuu was struck by the weariness etched in Urahara's face. Stripped of his childish mask, the man's face was drawn and tired, gaunt in a way that spoke of long days and longer nights agonizing over plans and pushing himself to continue well beyond his means. A tiny flicker of shock and pain crossed Urahara's face as his gaze landed on Uryuu, and it was all Uryuu could do to continue looking up at Urahara instead of turning away.

A heartbeat of strained, awkward silence descended, before Urahara pulled the brim of his bucket hat down further, shadowing his eyes enough that Uryuu couldn't tell where the man was looking. It was a bit of a perverse relief, to no longer be aware of the direction of the shopkeeper's gaze. Had Ichigo truly meant so much to the man?

(*Well, he did train me,*) Ichigo said softly. (*And he's probably realized what you standing here instead of me means.*)

Uryuu's jaw clenched, as he shoved the recriminations and what-ifs into a box and buried it deep in his soul. Now was not the time to face any of it, not with an enemy still at their backs and another enemy unaccounted for.

"It's not over yet," Urahara commented wearily, as he landed on the rubble and carefully made his way towards them. His geta clacked loudly on the rubble as he moved, a harsh sound in the near silence that had fallen. "There's no way that took care of him. That'd just make him another monster, after all."

Grim-faced, Urahara turned to the pillar of power. "He'll come out soon enough."

Uryuu swallowed harshly, as he too turned to stare up at the pillar of power that had consumed the man who threatened all three worlds. Urahara was right — if Aizen died from this, then he would have just been another monster, another demon like Ulquiorra where determination and skill could bring him down. If Aizen died from this, he wouldn't truly be the terrifyingly insane _thing_ intent on godhood and remaking the world in his own image that Uryuu had begun to label the man as.

(*I'm sorry I heaped this upon you,*) Ichigo muttered, his voice awkwardly apologetic. (*I didn't think…*)

( _*No, you didn't!*_ ) Uryuu snapped back, vicious and hurt and tired. ( _*You didn't think when you went to fight Ulquiorra, and you didn't think when you asked me to fix it all, and_ _ **I**_ _didn't think when I took that damn pill the bastard gave me, and there's_ _ **nothing**_ _that we can do about_ _ **any**_ _of that right now. So…*_ )

( ***Aw, how cute!*** ) Shiro cackled, obnoxious and loud and _blissfully distracting_. ( ***The kitten's got claws!*** )

The pillar evaporated in front of them before Uryuu could come up with a response, leaving a strange… shell behind. It was man-shaped, but… it reminded Uryuu more of a mannequin than a real person. The face was smooth, but for pitch black eyes and the barest hint of a nose, like a sculptor had only just begun to lay the foundations before giving up. A sword was held loosely in its right hand, and the tails of Aizen's coat continued to shift around his lower body, although they appeared to be part of his body now instead of a garment.

Calmly, Aizen landed, facing Uryuu and with his back to Urahara. A tilt of his head allowed him to look over his shoulder to stare at the shopkeeper, at the one who had attempted to immolate him with his own power. "So, you lured me in with a level 90 kidou, and then let me burn myself from within with my own technique. If it had been anyone else…"

He paused and looked to the side, as if contemplating something, then shook his head. "No. If I hadn't been following the hougyoku's lead, it would be over now. But unfortunately for you, the hougyoku you created surpasses your own understanding."

Calmly, Aizen dug his fingers into his left wrist, pulling free the cuff of power that Urahara had shackled him with and holding it up for the other to see. "The technique you probably created to fight me won't work on me."

Uryuu couldn't help but take a step backwards as Urahara unsheathed his sword in a single harsh movement, rage and determination in every line of his body as he bolted forward.

"Now that your techniques won't work, you turn to force? All right," Aizen said smugly, as he shifted his stance to block Urahara's attack.

At Uryuu's side, Kurosaki Isshin launched from his motionless stance, sword slicing through the air at Aizen's back while Urahara struck at the man's front.

Reacting to the two, Aizen dove forward, firmly planting his left hand on the ground and whipping his legs around to nail first Isshin in the chin as he came up, then pivoted to strike Urahara in the head. When he landed back on his feet, Aizen struck out again, foot lashing out to plant a kick in Isshin's chest that knocked the man aside, while parrying Urahara's sword strike with his blade.

Uryuu's eyes narrowed as he caught the flash of a thin chain, glittering in the hands of both Urahara and Kurosaki-sensei. As suddenly as the fight started, it stalled. Aizen stretched between the two of them, balanced awkwardly on his right leg as his right arm and left leg were caught in the chains and pulled tightly between the two men.

"What do you think you're doing?" Aizen asked, his eyes narrowed as he stared at Urahara. "You…"

(*Look, above him!*) Ichigo exclaimed, drawing Uryuu's attention to the dark skinned person plummeting through the sky. (*That's Yoruichi!*)

Uryuu barely had time to blink, as the woman landed on Aizen's back with a crash, smoke and reishi particles flying everywhere. He threw up a hand to guard his eyes against the fragments of concrete that rained down upon him ( _pitter-patter of pebble-rain, crackle-hiss of lightning, sharp scent of ozone— NO!_ ), then slowly brought it back down once the immediate danger was over.

"Yoruichi-san! Get out of there!" Urahara screamed.

Just barely in time for the woman to react by backflipping away from the eruption of power that lashed out and disintegrated one of her armored boots. She landed in a crouch in front of Urahara, left foot bare but otherwise unharmed.

"What's the matter?" Aizen's smug voice came from the center of the explosion, as he rose to stand tall once more. Cracks ran through his formerly pristine form, radiating out from where the hougyoku was implanted. "It's not over yet, is it? Hurry up and make your next move. I will smash each and every one of you to smithereens until the very last one collapses!"

Aizen began to move forward, sword held loosely at his side. "The number of steps you have taken to defeat me shows how committed you are… but it is also the number of your hopes! All I have to do is to destroy each and every one, before you kneel before me, crushed and hopeless! Now, make your next move. Urahara Kisuke. Shihoin Yoruichi. And, of course, Kurosaki Isshin."

Urahara snorted, as he looked down at Yoruichi, his fan sliding out of his sleeve as he did. "Man, what am I going to do now? That was special armor, made to stand up against hierro. I can't believe it was so easily destroyed."

Yoruichi glared up at him. "Hmm? What? You're acting like it's my fault."

"No, I didn't mean it that way!" Urahara exclaimed, shielding his face with his fan as he leaned away from the snarling woman.

Dumbfounded, Uryuu watched the byplay between the two Shinigami, though the thread of amusement from Ichigo warned him that this wasn't — entirely — out of character for them.

"Yes you did. You think it's because I was slacking off, don't you?" Yoruichi snarled, as she got in the shopkeeper's face. "Listen! It's your fault for not making it good enough — you must've been slacking off when you made it!"

Urahara chuckled awkwardly, flailing his fan around wildly while keeping his hat on with the other hand. "All right, all right!"

"I see," Aizen interjected, having also paused in his movements in order to watch the antics of the two Shinigami. "There must indeed be something special, for you to have survived my attack."

Yoruichi's face was smug and self-satisfied, like a cat with cream, as she stood on one leg and brought her bare left foot up to wiggle the toes at Aizen. "Yeah, my legs."

Next to her, Urahara just blinked, hiding his lower face behind his fan as he took a single small step away from her.

Uryuu facepalmed, pinching the bridge of his nose as Yoruichi snarled at Urahara and thumped him in the face. These two were two of the last remaining Shinigami standing? How had they ever survived this long?

(*Besides the terrifying speed and mind?*) Ichigo asked. (*Don't ask me about Goat-face, though. I think he's just alive 'cause he's too stupid to die.*)

"There is no reason to make a fuss. It is meaningless to debate over what exactly is special," Aizen interjected, apparently tired of the comedy act, as he brought his sword to bear. "If a single blow can destroy one, then all I have to do is strike three more times to destroy that specialness."

Urahara dropped the idiot act, the fan disappearing once more into his sleeve. "He's coming."

"I know," Yoruichi responded.

"Can you take him?"

"Who do you think you're talking to? As long as I don't use my left leg, I'll be fine."

Uryuu could barely follow what happened next, as Aizen launched himself forward and clashed with Yoruichi. Worrying at his lip, he called his bow into existence once more and tried to figure out how he could help.

( ***I think yer mostly fixed up,*** ) Shiro muttered. ( ***It's been long 'nough, but…*** )

( _*Yeah… I know.*_ ) Uryuu could feel it still, the weakness in his bones and the weariness in his limbs. His reiryoku was still unbelievably high, still spilling from his body like a waterfall, but his body… it was only sheer stubbornness and the full body ransoutengai that was keeping him upright at this point.

"Is that really what ya should be doing?" Gin's voice broke into his thoughts, abruptly reminding him of the other's existence. "I'm behind ya."

"Shit," Uryuu breathed, barely loud enough to be considered voiced, as he spun his body around and pointed his arrow straight at Gin's heart.

Gin laughed, a short, cackling laugh that sent chills down Uryuu's spine. He stretched and wandered over to a piece of rubble shaped vaguely like a seat, and settled comfortably on it. "Just kiddin'. I think I'll sit this one out."

Uryuu snarled. All his anger, all his hurt, every fragment of directionless emotion fixated on the traitor. His rational mind reminded him that this was hardly the best choice — Gin had taken on _Shiro_ and been barely injured — but… he felt helpless, unable to contribute in the clash of titans behind him, and all that undirected emotion had to go _somewhere_. "Stand up and fight me!"

Another spine-chilling cackle, as Gin tilted his head towards Uryuu. "You really wanna do that, ryoka? I remember beatin' yer ass pretty bad, even with the other guy in control."

The man smirked, as he turned to look at the fight going on between Aizen and the other three Shinigami. "It doesn't matter anyway, ya know? I've been watchin' Aizen-san a long time, but I've never seen him like that. Well, he took the hougyoku into himself without my knowledge, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised, ya know?"

"The hell do you mean, it doesn't matter?" Uryuu bit out, as he shifted so that he could glance at the combat out of the corner of his eye. It was… a swirling mess of reishi and reiatsu, obscured by dust and debris as the already fractured landscape was further pulverized. He hoped there were no souls still around, not even Shinigami souls. No matter how much he wanted to kill them, no matter how badly he wanted to see them all _die_ , this wasn't the way anyone should go, caught up in a battle of titans beyond their ability.

( _Perhaps it is a kinder death. An instant death. Crushed before they knew what happened to them. Shinigami don't deserve kindness._ )

"You can tell, can't you? There's nothing you can do now." Gin turned his head back to fix Uryuu with a satisfied, fox-like grin and a closed-eye stare. "They are going to die, and so will you."

"No. I refuse to let that happen," Uryuu replied, as he dredged up every last iota of determination and will. There was no room in his heart for despair. Not when he was shouldering Ichigo's burden. Not when everything hinged on his success.

So he calmly, resolutely, shoved everything — all his despair, all his fear, all his helpless rage and wild grief — into a box and buried it deep in his soul, locking it away next to the box of ( _horror-terror-agony-fear-fear-_ _ **denial-RAGE**_ ) emotion from the moment he emerged atop the dome in Hueco Mundo. It left his mind clear like brittle glass, all sharp edges and jagged thoughts.

The voices in his head remained silent, adding their determination to his.

"That's just fine," Gin answered. "I figured you would say that. You're enough like Ichigo—"

The world crystallized. Emerald arrows interrupted Gin's words, forcing the traitor to leap away. Uryuu followed him, cold and merciless; his bow shone brightly; his arrows flickered through the air as quickly as he could summon them.

Gin would die. For daring to say his best friend's name. For daring to _mock him_. His vision narrowed, fixated on Gin, on _seeing the man dead._ Black ( _like Ulquiorra, like Shiro, like_ _ **death**_ ) tainted his emerald arrows. Arrows that exploded, tearing chunks of rubble and reishi to shreds. Arrows that ate at Gin's body.

He didn't wait for the dust to clear. For the reishi to settle. Gin was still alive amidst the swirling debris, wounded but well. That couldn't be allowed to continue.

Uryuu darted forward in a burst of buzzing hirenkyaku: high and angry, the sound of a bow dry fired. His bow flexed, flowed, became his dao and ripped through the concealing dust.

A clang. Scent of musty books and old wood. Blood dripped freely down Gin's body, staining torn clothing red. The man's sword was steady, blocking Uryuu from the blow that would have taken Gin's head.

"Eh? What's this?" Gin's smile fell, his eyes cracking open to fix Uryuu with a fascinated look. "I didn't know ya could take that form on purpose. Though, I guess it wasn't really on purpose, was it?"

Unwilling to be distracted, Uryuu disengaged. Darted away, dao becoming a bow. Power ripped through his body, bits of nearby landscape disintegrated around him as he collected and compressed every bit of reishi he could. A single vivid arrow, so bright the emerald became white, leapt from his bow.

Gin's eyes widened further, and the traitor hastily dodged aside. Behind him, an entire area of rubble evaporated, the shock-wave powerful enough to knock Gin forward a few steps. Tiny fragments of rubble shot through the air, drawing blood from both of them as cuts and scratches appeared over their bodies.

"Heh, guess I don't have much choice," Gin commented, as he brought his blade up, butt of the hilt against his chest and the blade aimed at Uryuu. "Kamishini no Yari, Buto."

Uryuu _moved_ , escaping in a buzz of hirenkyaku. Blood dripped down his arm. His sleeve hung loose, seam torn open. Now was the time, while Gin's blade was extended—

No. The blade had retracted. Gin was aiming it at him again.

Uryuu grit his teeth. Pushed himself to his limit, _beyond,_ forcing tired limbs to move by mind alone.

"Kamishini no Yari, Buto Renjin."

The single blade seemed to multiply, thousands upon thousands of strikes in a single heartbeat. It was a trick of his mind, an artifact of his senses' inability to keep up with the speed of Gin's blade.

In practice, it didn't matter.

Frantically, he tried to dodge, to block, to do _something_ to enable him to survive long enough to kill the traitor.

But it wasn't enough. A glancing blow caught him on the side, sent him tumbling. He tried to catch himself, tried to defend even as he tumbled, helpless, through the rain of strikes. The compass rose design of his bow was useful as a shield, letting him block and deflect blows he couldn't dodge, but still more slipped through.

Blood rolled down his body from hundreds of wounds, itching as it trickled over his skin. He could already feel himself slowing. A bad dodge sent him reeling, his head cracking against the flat of Gin's blade. A flick of the traitor's wrist sent him flying to the side.

The problem with ransoutengai, Uryuu mused, as the ground came up to meet him, was that he moved at the speed of thought. Not instinct. His instincts were wired into his body's muscles, but ransoutengai bypassed all that, using the body as a puppet driven by the mind.

As he lay on the ground, winded and in pain, waiting for the final blow, Uryuu wondered if it was possible to fix that oversight. Wondered if it was possible to fight instinctively with ransoutengai. Wondered why Gin hadn't killed him yet.

Fragments of bone fell from his face, dissolving into reishi as they clinked against the rubble near his ears. He could feel the flow of reiryoku in his body, ebbing and twisting through his limbs, as it tried to patch him up and heal his wounds. Shiro's abilities were almost as cheating as Inoue's.

"Ain't no helpin' it now," Gin commented, as he looked down at Uryuu. "Ya've clearly reached yer limit. That mask ya wore is gone, an' somehow I don't think that other spirit can come to the fore to help ya like before."

Gin hopped down off his ledge of rubble and strolled closer. "It's too bad. Ya had promise, ryoka, even if ya had to borrow it from the kid."

Uryuu grimaced, unable to do more than turn his head to the side and stare blankly into the distance. The blow to his head had scrambled his senses — even laying still as he was, the world wavered in his vision, and the ransoutengai had slipped through his grasp.

"Tch," Gin voiced, as he used his blade to nudge Uyruu's head back up, the cold point digging into Uryuu's cheek. The traitor's mouth was stretched in his perpetual smirk, his eyes once more squinted closed, but Uryuu had the impression that he was being weighed against some invisible bar. "Just get outta here, little ryoka. You're not worth my time to kill."

The dismissal _burned_ , and Uryuu managed to find the strength to push himself to his knees, though the effort left him panting and in pain. ( _The worst was the itching, the crackling itch of drying blood painting his skin red. He could shunt the pain aside, bite his tongue and bear it, but the_ _ **itching…**_ )

A eruption of power behind him made him twist around, startled and wary. A crescent wave of power rippled through the sky, blinding in its intensity.

(*That… that looks like my Getsuga Tenshouu,*) Ichigo spoke, as they watched the power ebb and fade away slowly. (*Does Goat-face have the same ability?*)

"Should you really be lookin' behind ya?" Gin asked. "After all, I'm still here. And whose ta say I wasn't lyin' when I said ya weren't worth killin'?"

Uryuu squared his shoulders and glared up at Gin. At least he was kneeling, instead of laying on his back like a stranded turtle. It wasn't much better, but there was at least some dignity in facing the man who was likely to kill him.

Gin watched him, his smile growing just the tiniest bit smaller. "You're not a soldier, you know. Neither a Shinigami, nor a Hollow, nor even a Quincy. Kami, you ain't even a human anymore, ya know, little ryoka?"

Uryuu swallowed hard, as he tried to shut out Gin's insidious voice. The little worm of words dug into his mind, into his heart, and sent tremors all through his being. He may have been remade atop that dome in Hueco Mundo, but what had he been remade _into_?

( _Iron-rot-must. A reminder of his nothingness every time he bled._ )

(*Hey, stop listening to that damn bastard! It doesn't matter what you are, just what you can do! C'mon, Uryuu, don't let 'im get to you!*)

( _*I agree. You are more than a word, more than a label. Raise your head high, for you are your own person and can choose your own fate.*_ )

( ***C'mon, Koneko-chan! Where's yer damn claws?! Show this idjit who's boss!*** )

Uryuu took a deep breath and hardened his resolve. The others were right. He couldn't afford to falter now. How many times had he seen or heard of Ichigo being brought this low, only to rise up stronger, surer, more capable? He could do no less. He _would_ do no less.

"That being said, do you really think someone as half-assed as you can beat him, when those three can't?" Gin asked, as he gestured behind Uryuu to where the battle with Aizen was taking place. "Go ahead and run. I won't hold it against you. Kids ain't supposed to be caught up in shit like this, anyway."

"I refuse," Uryuu spoke, softly but sure, as he glared up at Gin. It was suicide to not take the man's offer to flee, but he refused to accept charity from a traitor. Refused to accept being talked down to like he was a stupid brat who didn't know the cost of his actions.

Gin paused, frozen for a moment, before his mouth clicked closed and his eyes opened to fix Uryuu with a considering look. "You don't want to die yet, do ya? Or maybe ya do."

"Ya did see a companion die in front a' ya, didn't ya?" Gin's voice took on a contemplative tone, as he stepped closer again, one slender hand reaching out to cradle Uryuu's chin between long fingers. "Even full Shinigami can't always get over that. They usually run head first into battle, heads too full of rage and revenge and self-hatred to care if they lived or died. Some even threw themselves in front of Hollows too strong for 'em."

Uryuu shivered, fine tremors rippling through his body as his chin was held in Gin's impossibly strong grasp. The traitor Captain's sky blue eyes were open and… strangely sad.

(*Uryuu…*)

( ***Koneko-chan! Hey! Snap outta it, ya pansy!*** )

"Is that where ya want to go with this, little ryoka?" Gin asked softly, as he tilted Uryuu's chin from side to side so he could look at the other's full face. "Head first into combat with no regard fer yerself or the life ya hold in trust? That sorta attitude can get others killed, kiddo, and not just yerself. Think on it."

As suddenly as it began, Gin dropped Uryuu's chin and took a large step back, his eyes squinting closed and mouth quirking back up into his trademark smirk.

"Well! That's the last warning I'll give ya. If ya won't run, then I'll hafta kill ya right now," Gin spoke, as he reached into his coat and slowly withdrew his blade.

An eruption of power directly behind him had Uryuu twisted about once more, to stare up at the strange mannequin-like form that Aizen had taken.

Ichigo's wordless cry of pain drew Uryuu's attention away, to the bodies of the three who had been fighting Aizen. They lay sprawled across the ground, clothing torn and blood coating the rubble around them.

(*Dad…*)

Kurosaki-sensei lay face down, black hair matted with dust and blood that turned it a strange greyish pink in places.

(*Urahara-san…*)

Urahara's blond hair, unrestrained by his ridiculous hat, fanned out around the unconscious shopkeeper's head, his outfit shredded and chest littered with bleeding wounds.

(*Yoruichi-san…*)

The woman of the trio was the worst off, hanging down from a fragment of wall like a macabre decoration. Her blood ran slowly down the wall, dripped from the fingertips of her right hand, and formed a slowly growing pool of blood below her.

"Gin, what were you going to do to him?" Aizen asked as he approached, gaze shifting from Gin's unsheathed blade to Uryuu's kneeling form.

Gin shrugged, as he took another step back from Uryuu. "Nothing, really. He's a disappointing toy, Aizen-sama."

"I see," Aizen paused long enough to give Uryuu an unsettlingly blank stare, before turning and walking away. "Open the Senkaimon. I will invade Karakura in Soul Society. There is no need to destroy the Tenkai Kecchu in the end. If I want to topple the palace, creating the key in Soul Society will work even better."

"Right." Gin moved to fall into place at Aizen's right, raising his blade in preparation to slide it into the barrier between worlds.

"No!" Uryuu snarled, as he struggled to his feet, finally dredging up enough strength to stand. His bow flickered into existence, though he had trouble keeping his arm steady even with ransoutengai. "I won't let you!"

But Aizen continued walking, ignoring him, even as fragments of the mannequin-like shell began to fracture and fall away.

"Aizen-taichou?" Gin paused in his action of opening the Senkaimon, looking at his boss with curiosity as bits and pieces fell away, like porcelain from a shattered pot.

"Yes, it appears the chrysalis phase is over." Aizen brought his left had up, watching as the shell over his fingers began to crack and crumble, as more fragments fell away from his head. His dark brown hair shifted in the slight breeze as it was freed, the movement knocking free more bits. "I'm glad. Now I will be able to see Soul Society's downfall with my own eyes."

Gin slid his sword into the barrier between realms and turned it, summoning forth the large shouji doors that acted as the gate. As they opened, Aizen turned slightly to smirk at Uryuu.

"I will leave you here. And I will eat you when it is all over."

( ***Now that's what I call creepy!*** ) Shiro cackled, as the gates slammed closed behind Aizen and Gin, leaving Uryuu standing and staring at the space where they had been.

"We… lost?" Uryuu asked softly, staring up at the space in disbelief. His shoulders sagged as weariness dragged at his limbs, fine tremors running through his body as everything started to catch up with him.

Shiro's regeneration had already closed many of his wounds, and Uryuu absently tugged on the reishi lingering in the air to refill his flagging reserves. He wondered how much further he could push his body before he completely collapsed. How much longer before his body just gave out, burned through from the use and abuse of more power than he had ever directed through it in his entire life.

(*I don't think you can. Burn it out, I mean,*) Ichigo mused. (*Old Man Zangetsu seems to think that 'cause your reiryoku is so much bigger now, and Shiro's constantly healing you, you'll need to channel more than triple your full reiryoku in a single moment in order to burn your ability out.*)

( ***Tch, don't expect me ta always be doin' that, koneko-chan,*** ) Shiro grumbled. ( ***Jes… fuck dying so soon.*** )

( _*Still, thanks,*_ ) Uryuu directed at the still grumbling Shiro.

"Uryuu!"

The shout startled Uryuu out of his mental conversation, and he twisted about and raised his bow at the source.

Kurosaki-sensei raised his hands, palms out, and paused in his motions of rising from the ground until Uryuu finally allowed his bow to dissipate.

"Why're you just standing there?" Kurosaki-sensei asked, as the man managed to stand and start stumbling across the distance between them. When the man reached him, Kurosaki-sensei draped an arm over Uryuu's shoulders and leaned on him. Both of them teetered there for a moment, barely standing upright, before they found their balance, both leaning on the other.

"C'mon, let's open a Senkaimon," Kurosaki-sensei stated, as he turned them to face the same space that Gin had used to open one moments before. "Let's go protect Karakura."

* * *

For anyone who thinks Gin's a bit _too_ OOC there, in his flash of sorta-kinda-kindness while telling Uryuu to remember the life he holds in trust... remember that Gin turned traitor for the sole purpose of stabbing Aizen in the back. At this point, Gin's faced with the knowledge that Aizen's already done one thing without his knowledge (absorb the hougyoku), so a backup plan is definitely needed. And Ichigo was his best hope, and now he's dealing with a potentially suicidal teen with anger management issues who was previously a non-entity outside of "sidekick". Things ain't lookin' so good in his eyes.

Ja ne.


	6. The Precipice

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and those people/companies that publish Bleach. I own nothing except my meagre attempts at playing in his sandbox.

Warnings: Pretty much everybody's mouth, described violence (it IS Bleach, after all), mostly canon up to the fight with Butterfly-Aizen then kiss canon goodbye. Also unbetaed

Short chapter is short. (Partner and I swapped colds back and forth for most of the month. Fun times.) Also, I got tired of fighting with underlining problems, especially in a situation where the only people talking are literally Uryuu and Head-friends, so in the mindscape from now on there won't be any markers because I can have normal interactions because everyone has a body, instead of just being random lines of chatter.

( _Everything's green_ ) - Subconscious flow of thoughts  
( _*Why is everything green?*_ ) - Uryuu actively thinking  
(*Because it is.*) - Ichigo actively thinking  
( ***Who th'hell cares?!*** ) - Shiro actively thinking  
( _*Peace, hollow.*_ ) - Old Man Zangetsu actively thinking

* * *

Uryuu hesitated, shifting his gaze from Kurosaki-sensei to the space where Gin had summoned the Senkaimon, then sighed. "It's… no use."

A fist collided with his head, knuckles digging into his skull as Kurosaki-sensei turned suddenly violent. "The hell's that supposed to mean! You're breathing, aren't you?! Pull that damn Quincy Pride together that your father was always nattering about when we first met, and help me beat that asshole into the ground!"

( _*Your father is fucking insane!*_ ) Uryuu snarled at Ichigo, as he struggled free of the surprisingly powerful grip Ichigo's father had him in.

(*Yeah, Goat-face is a bit…*)

( ***Batshit fucking crazy! He** **'s great!*** )

Uryuu twisted free and took a step back, then gave the man a calculating look. The way the other was treating him was… confusing. "Why?"

"Eh?" Kurosaki-sensei blinked, a confused expression crossing his face. "Don't you care about your father? Your friends? Ichigo's sisters?"

Uryuu felt the three spirits in his head still, a deadly silence falling as they waited for his reaction. He couldn't help but scoff at the ridiculousness of it all — did they honestly expect him to say that he _didn_ _'t care?_ True, the only 'friends' he had still in Karakura would just be more of _Ichigo_ _'s_ friends that tolerated his presence, but… did Ichigo think him callous enough to just leave Karin and Yuzu to die?

It was true that he barely knew them, but he had promised to take on Ichigo's burden, and only a _blind man_ would miss how much the teen's sisters meant to him. Uryuu had no idea how to be a brother — had a hard enough time figuring out how to be a friend — but saving them? That wasn't even a question.

"Of course I do!" Uryuu snapped. He then gestured broadly with a hand, indicating the chaos that the fake Karakura had become, including the still unconscious forms of Urahara and Yoruichi. "But do you honestly think we can do anything against that freak of nature?! His reiatsu was stifling! And you and the other two already got your asses handed to you by some goddamn _chrysalis_ stage and now he's _**beyond that!**_ "

Uryuu took a calming breath, trying to reign in his temper. In the back of his mind, Ichigo's spirit gave a sheepish feeling at having doubted him, but Uryuu brushed it off — they were both tired, running on adrenaline and fear. Misunderstandings happened.

"No," Uryuu finally continued, once he felt he had his temper mostly under control again, "I'm asking why the hell you're treating me so… so _nicely!_ Don't you care?!"

The confusion on Kurosaki-sensei's face cleared up, replaced by a surprisingly sober expression as the man stepped closer to him again and slung his arm back over Uryuu's shoulder in an awkward hug. "Did you kill him?"

Uryuu blinked, then slowly shook his head.

"Then why should I hold you responsible?" Ichigo's father asked, then promptly clamped his hand over Uryuu's mouth to keep him from responding. "No, listen to me. All of you in there. This is… a very odd situation, yes, and as soon as this all cools down and Aizen's taken care of, I'm probably going to fall apart. How could I not? My _son_ is _gone_ , and nothing I do will change that. Even worse, he's stuck inside another kid's soul, instead of moving on properly to join Soul Society."

(*Dad…*)

Isshin's expression softened. "But like I told Ichigo a few months ago, how could I ever blame his death on you? He's far too much like his mother, capable of giving his life for others. This is war, no matter that the armies are just single people, and in war people _die_. I didn't…"

The man took a breath, harsh and uneven, then held it for a second before letting it out. "I didn't expect that _Ichigo_ would be one of those lost, and I never wanted someone as young as you to know what it's like to lose a comrade in battle, but this is _war._ "

Silence descended upon them, as Uryuu turned his head to stare off into the distance for a moment, turning Kurosaki-sensei's words over in his head. It was… it was a surprising relief to hear that Ichigo's father didn't blame him for what happened.

Ichigo scoffed, (*Of course Goat-face wouldn't blame you. If I knew you thought that, I'd've smacked you.*)

( _*Well excuse me for not knowing your father very well!*_ ) Uryuu sniped back.

(*Better get used to him!*) Ichigo cheerfully commented. (*He's probably going to adopt you into the family now, complete with random surprise attacks and wailing at a poster of mom on the wall wh— oh kami, he's probably going to put a poster of _me_ on the wall now!* )

( _*_ _…What?*_ )

"So! Crisis averted?" Isshin cheerfully asked, as he ruffled Uryuu's hair. "By the way, I love the tiger stripes! Maybe I should do that for mine?"

"Wh— no!" Uryuu sputtered in shock, as he knocked Isshin's hand away from his head and scowled at the man-child he was discovering Ichigo's father to be. How Ichigo had grown up so relatively sane with _this_ as a role model was… shocking.

(*It helps that I have to take care of Karin and Yuzu, cause Goat-face is absolutely helpless with girls.*)

"Come on," Kurosaki-sensei said, cheerfulness fading once more into seriousness as he dropped his arm from around Uryuu's shoulders and took a few steps to where Gin had been standing. "There's no time to waste, if we want to keep everyone safe."

Casting one last glance at the rubble and the unconscious bodies of Urahara and Yoruichi, Uryuu nodded and squared his shoulders, firming up his resolve once more. He would do this. For Ichigo.

Seeing the resolve in his eyes, Isshin gave a small, pleased smile, before he used his zanpakutou to open a Senkaimon and gestured for Uryuu to step through.

Uryuu nodded to Ichigo's father, then darted through and began to race down the corridor opened by the gate. Behind him, he could feel Isshin following.

After a few moments of running, Isshin called out, "Wait, Uryuu!"

Uryuu growled and skid to a halt, turning to glare at the man who had insisted on racing off only to make them stop soon after. "What is it? Aren't we in a hurry?"

"It's odd," Isshin stated, as he glanced around at the dangai. "I can't sense the cleaner anywhere."

Uryuu frowned, trying to remember everything he had heard about it. Which… wasn't much, he realized. "Wasn't that supposed to be indestructible?"

"Yeah," Kurosaki-sensei nodded in agreement. "It's not something a Shinigami can fight. But from the traces of reiatsu around, Aizen must have done something to it."

At the other's words, Uryuu reached out mentally, trying to sense the reishi in the air. There wasn't much — nearly everything was overwhelmed by the power of the dangai itself — but he could catch hints of Aizen. More than would be left by someone just passing through, he was certain. But did that truly mean the cleaner was gone?

"Is it a bad thing if it's gone?" Uryuu asked, his curiosity warring with his impatience. Isshin had insisted that they needed to hurry, but now he was dithering over some new destruction Aizen had left behind? If the traitor really had destroyed the cleaner, it had probably gotten in his way — Uryuu really couldn't imagine Aizen and Gin fleeing in front of the cleaner the same way his group had on the way to Seireitei the first time.

"It's not good to leave it like this," Isshin confirmed. "But right now it's to our advantage."

Uryuu blinked, then fixed Ichigo's father with a confused stare. Sure, it meant they didn't have to worry about being knocked out of time, but…

"The dangai is called the precipice world, cut off from both Seireitei and from Earth, from time and from space. So the cleaner is here to make sure no one stays too long," Isshin explained. "But without it here, we can spend some time getting your skills back together."

With a frown, Uryuu took in the narrow path and the pulsating walls. "How? This area isn't very large."

"Why, in your inner world, of course!" Isshin exclaimed with a grin. "Guess you haven't had time to try—"

"I'm a Quincy," Uryuu interrupted. "Altered existence or not, I still don't have a true inner world, according to Zangetsu."

Isshin blinked. "You've got Ichigo's blade, too?"

"Yes?" Uryuu frowned, then glanced away, rubbing at his arm. "Though… though Ichigo seems to be my blade, not Zangetsu, even if I… don't really understand why."

"Huh," Isshin looked positively stumped by Uryuu's comment. "That's… an interesting result. I guess I can see how that would happen, but… well. Why don't you ask if they think it'll work?"

( _*I am_ _… unsure how the mindscape I crafted for you will work in a place like this,*_ ) the Old Man admitted as soon as Uryuu turned his attention towards them. ( _*It could be that the entire thing will override the nearby landscape, or it could be that a copy of the landscape is brought into the realm with you.*_ )

(*Hey, maybe my skyscrapers are still enough like a Shinigami's Inner World to work around that?*) Ichigo asked. (*It's worth a shot at least. They're at least bigger that this path, so that's something.*)

"Zangetsu doesn't know," Uryuu told Isshin, before warily eying the pulsating walls around them. "But it's… it's worth a shot. How do I..?"

"Right, you haven't had any time to try this on your own," Kurosaki-sensei remarked as he rubbed at the stubble on his chin. "Well, for a Shinigami, we just sit in meditation, put our blade across our lap, then squeeze our heart into our blade. I don't know know if being not-quite a Shinigami will change that, but maybe try that first? Er… where is your blade?"

Uryuu took a deep breath, before his right hand twitched, fingers clasping the bandage-wrapped tang of the dao he had claimed from Ichigo as it materialized in his grip.

"I don't… seem to keep it around," he admitted, as he stared at the blue-silvered edge and solid black back that made it up. "Though I can. When I came out of the mindscape that Zangetsu pulled me into, it was on my back and stayed there until I created my bow again."

"Huh," Isshin stared at the blade thoughtfully, then drew his own blade lightning quick and struck.

"The hell was that for?!" Uryuu yelped, as he disengaged his blade and took a few steps backwards.

"It sounds like a real blade," Isshin said, as he sheathed his blade. "I was just checking to see if it was closer to a reishi construct like a Quincy bow, or if it was closer to a proper Shinigami blade."

Uryuu gave Isshin a sour look, then pointed the dao at the man's chest. "Next time, just ask you damn idiot!"

Isshin just laughed awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his dead. He swapped gears suddenly, though, reaching into his shihakushou and pulling out four oddly shaped blades. They looked like tuning forks, though significantly thinner, with cloth wrapped tightly around the lower half of their length that trailed off into a cord that led to one of two bracelets.

As Uryuu watched, Isshin clipped the bracelets to his wrists and threw the blades, two to each side of him, to embed them deeply into the pulsing walls that sat to either side.

"They call this Kaikyou Kotei. Normally, lower-echelon Shinigami come in by the dozens and use a special method to pour in their reiatsu and fix the current, but I can do it by myself," Isshin explained, as he adjusted the bracelet around his left wrist. "I'm going to suppress the kouryuu current until my reiatsu runs out. I'd estimate we have just around two thousand hours until that happens, so just under three months."

Uryuu stared wide-eyed at the wall next to him, watching as it slowly froze in place. Ichigo's father had enough reiatsu to hold something like that for nearly three months of time? No wonder Ichigo had such vast reserves — surely that wasn't normal, even for a Captain?

"During that time," Isshin spoke again, drawing Uryuu's attention back to him. "I want you to work with my son. I want you to learn as much as you can, train as hard as you can. If it means that he becomes your zanpakutou in truth, then… I will accept that. No matter how odd this whole thing is, I want you to remember your goals, and those people relying upon you to succeed."

Uryuu nodded jerkily, as he glanced down at his stolen sword ( _no, he couldn_ _'t think of it as stolen any longer. It was his, and if he wanted to survive, to win, he had to accept his new reality wholeheartedly. To do otherwise was to court death at Aizen's hands._ )

He settled down on the floor, legs crossed and blade resting on his thighs. It stood out starkly against his tattered white pants, a patch of shadow across the moon. How was he supposed to…

"Put you heart into your blade!" Isshin commanded, his eyes narrowed and dangerous. "Stop just staring at it, concentrate!"

"Shut up, I know!" Uryuu snapped back at the man, before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. He'd done a bit of meditation in the past, finding it restful after dealing with the chaos of school and personal interactions, and therefore fell easily into the calm state of mind. He hit a block, however, when he tried to figure out how to 'put his heart into his blade'. How did one do that? It was all well and good for Shinigami to speak of such a thing, with their blade being a part of themselves, but did that hold true for him?

( _*Just concentrate on us,*_ ) came the Old Man's calm voice. ( _*Concentrate on us, and come towards us.*_ )

It was… an odd half-twist to his world. Everything suddenly snapped into focus, and Isshin's quiet breaths faded into silence.

Uryuu opened his eyes, to see the same odd greyscale world that had confronted him the first time. Except this time, he was standing in the precipice world, with Ichigo's mirror-bright skyscrapers the only hint of color, crisscrossing the narrow path and disappearing into the kouryuu.

"You'll need to test it," Ichigo said, as he stood at Uryuu's shoulder, staring up at the skyscraper that passed overhead. "But I think my skyscrapers will work. Otherwise we'll have to stick to this corridor."

Uryuu glanced at Ichigo, then up at the skyscraper that crossed the path far above them. He puzzled over how to reach it, even as he flexed his legs and confirmed, once again, that he was without reinforcements in this strange side-slipped world. The last time he had tried… no, he didn't want to harm Ichigo, so how…

"Stop over-thinkin' it, koneko-chan!" Shiro cackled, as he landed next to Uryuu, grabbed him by the arm, and flung him upwards without warning. "It's all in yer head!"

"A bit crude, but accurate," the Old Man acknowledged, as Uryuu landed with a crash next to the… flagpole the other was perching on? What..?

"Ichigo, your spirits are crazy!" Uryuu called, as he pushed himself to his feet and eyed the Old Man. It was all in his head? So did that mean…

"I try not to think about it!" Ichigo called back, amusement clear in his voice. "Besides! We're your problem now!"

With a snort, Uryuu decided to ignore his friend and attempt to put the fragment of idea to the test. He closed his eyes, concentrating on how it felt like to be reinforced, to keep up with Ichigo, to fight as the equal to monsters, to cross distances no normal human could in single leaps and flickers of hirenkyaku. He submerged himself in those feelings, in that strength.

A cackle was his only warning, and Uryuu instinctively leapt backwards to dodge Shiro's violent attack. He stumbled the landing slightly, surprised to see the distance he had put between them, then forced himself back in the moment.

His dao clanged against Shiro's. The spirit's golden eyes shone with malice, as he drove Uryuu back to the kouryuu. The black-edged blade struck hard and fast, making Uryuu's arms tremble with the effort to block and redirect.

The ground gave way beneath him, shards of glass exploding as Shiro drove an unnamed Getsuga Tenshou into the window and forced Uryuu through.

He glanced behind him. Saw nothing but the sideways tower. Felt relief.

Ichigo was right, the skyscrapers were enough out of phase to pierce through the kouryuu. Had no time to consider the idea further — back and back he was driven, until his back thumped into a wall.

Shiro leaned in over their crossed blades, mouth stretched in a disturbing grin. "Where're yer claws, koneko? If this is all ya got, I'm gunna eat you alive. I ain't got time fer a pansy ruler, ya know."

Uryuu bared his own teeth at the insane spirit and firmed up his resolve. He would. Not. LOSE!

"Now that's more like it!" Shiro exclaimed, as Uryuu shoved him away and went on the offensive.

He darted to the right, knocked Shiro's blade aside. _Thrust._ Danced back from the counterstrike, ruby droplets scattering across the floor from both of them.

Shiro moved faster, struck harder. Uryuu's arms trembled, firmed again. A scorching line of pain erupted across his chest — too slow to block, too sluggish to dodge. More blood, trickling down his stomach.

They fought, trashing the inside of the tower. Uryuu kicked a chunk of rubble at Shiro, ducked away from the retaliatory Getsuga Tenshou. Barely managed to catch Shiro's blade against his own.

Every time he felt equal, every time he felt _stronger_ , Shiro just struck harder, moved faster. Air started to drag through his throat, sandpaper rough and far too hot. Sweat and blood trickled down his forehead, stung his eyes, but he didn't dare pause to rub at them. Even blinking took too long, sometimes.

But Shiro bled too. Lines of blood beading and dripping down his arms and soaking his white coat pink.

"Heh, gettin' better, koneko," Shiro muttered, as he leapt back from a deadlock and eyed Uryuu thoughtfully. "Guess I better kick it up a notch!"

Uryuu took the moment to drag a hand across his forehead, and rub at his eyes with his mostly clean sleeve. The distraction cost him.

He yelped as Shiro's blade whipped past his shoulder, close enough to slice the cloth, then flew back into Shiro's hands.

"Pay attention, koneko-chan!" Shiro taunted, as he spun his blade at his side. "I ain't gunna warn ya again!"

Uryuu bared his teeth at the other, blade flashing out to knock Shiro's thrown weapon aside. He raced in, power gathering on the edge of his blade. Had to leap aside as Shiro's hand flexed, pulling on the bandage to call the blade back.

Shiro took advantage of ruined interior to keep space between them, hurled and recalled his weapon before Uryuu could cross the distance. Kept Uryuu on the defensive, unable to strike.

"Bastard!" Uryuu roared, as he ducked under the thrown blade. A moment of freedom to concentrate.

He knocked aside the returning blade with the compass rose of his bow. Fired.

Shiro yelped. Dodged the arrow and recalled his sword. Launched forward with blade readied.

It became harder to keep up. Between Shiro's slowly increasing strength and speed, and the random changes in combat distance, Uryuu felt as if he was falling further and further behind. He struggled to adapt, to cover both as easily as the spirit did.

The spun blade felt awkward in his hand, shifting and struggling against his control. Shiro's cackling laughter taunted him every time he missed, every time he fumbled the catch on the return. His hand throbbed where his own blade had cracked against his knuckles. No matter which hand he used, he couldn't seem to manage a fragment of Shiro's control.

Uryuu gave up, focused on what he could. Focused on switching between sword and bow and back. It came easier to him, at least, but only just.

Shiro raced forward, ducked under Uryuu's awkward sword strike, and planted a foot on Uryuu's chest.

"Shit!" Uryuu cursed. Tried to both catch himself and shift the dao to his bow. Fumbled both. Bow flickering slowly into existence, he crashed through an outer window.

Straight into the kouryuu.

Panicked, Uryuu tried to struggle back. It surrounded him like molasses, dark and heavy, dragging on his limbs until he felt like he was barely moving. He couldn't sense anything through the morass, not even Shiro's inferno-bright reiatsu, and quickly lost sense of which way he had come. He was being crushed, being suffocated by the thick material, and he _couldn_ _'t get_ _ **free!**_

Something wriggled against his wrist, wrapping tight, before dragging him out and into the wonderfully clear interior of a tower. He fell to the ground on his hands and knees and panted, trying to suppress his shivers and calm back down. The tail end of Shiro's sword bandage unwrapped from his wrist and wound back around the spirit's arm.

"Looks like it's jes a copy," Shiro commented airily, as he sauntered past Uryuu and stuck his hand into the unmoving kouryuu that was just beyond the tower. "Feels all weird, though."

Uryuu shot the spirit a dark glare, then ran a hand through his hair. It was surprising that none of the strange material seemed to have clung to him, but perhaps that was another effect of the mindscape?

"Welp! Jes' rem'mber, koneko, this is all in yer head," Shiro repeated his words from before the start of the fight.

"And what does _that_ have to do with anything?" Uryuu snapped back, as he pushed himself back to his feet and called his dao back to his hand.

"Eh? Didn'tcha realize ya could breath in there?" Shiro asked, false innocence dripping from his tone. "Stop thinkin' a'it like a pile a' mud, an' just think a'it like a dark room."

"That makes no sense!"

Shiro shrugged, then brought his sword back to bear on Uryuu. "Yer loss then, koneko!"

Uryuu darted aside as the fight resumed, blade lashing out to rip clean through the back of Shiro's coat. Blood welled up, dripped down, stained white to red.

The retaliation was swift and brutal. Shiro's blade sang through the air, edge coated with dark reiatsu as it whistled by Uryuu's face. Uryuu spun, forced sword into bow, knocked the returning blade aside. A broken Getsuga Tenshou scored at his front, partially blocked by his bow but still strong. Pieces of his coat fluttered to the ground, severed by the energy. More blood welled up, spilling from cuts he could barely feel.

He kicked a piece of rubble at Shiro, followed up with a flurry of arrows. A burst of Hirenkyaku to the side, bow into blade, close quarters.

Shiro laughed. Used his bandage to drag Uryuu into the flurry. Ducked under a sword strike and leapt away, still cackling.

Uryuu hastily bent the arrows around himself, sending them towards the spirit again. Grit his teeth when Shiro spun his sword, fast enough to look like a solid shield, and shattered the bolts.

They launched back into combat, darting in and out of range. Uryuu's bow came faster, his sword came easier, until he was flowing between the two of them with a single thought. Shiro's grin stretched wider, a pleased tinge creeping in along the edges.

Uryuu began to dread that expression. Began to hate it with his very being, as Shiro ramped up his speed again. He could no longer keep track of the spirit. Rather, his instincts _screamed_ at him, conscious thought falling away.

Blood bloomed across his chest and back. Ran down his arms in constant rivulets. His weapon flickered, new instincts driving him to fight with everything he had. Point blank arrows drove Shiro back, his questing blade tasted the spirit's blood.

Slowly, Shiro started to come into focus, fragments of images instead of blurs of color. Uryuu still couldn't _watch him_ , couldn't track Shiro's every movement, but he was _getting better_. Never had he fought on such a scale — Ulquiorra had been _powerful_ , but Shiro was _fast._

(Or was it that they had all improved since that disastrous fight?)

Finally, Shiro kicked him to the floor in a blur of motion that Uryuu _almost_ kept track of, and rested his weapon over his shoulder. "Enough. Yer gettin' better, koneko."

Uryuu paused in his attempt to struggle back to his feet, then gratefully allowed himself to collapse back on the floor, limbs splayed in exhaustion. He spent a few moments trying to get his breathing under control — his throat felt sore and parched from the harsh, uneven breaths he had been taking the last few moments of the fight. Every muscle in his body protested, especially those in his right arm, and his wounds took that moment to suddenly scream in violent protest.

He let them, staring up at the window above him and up into the vast emptiness that reached overhead of the path. An eternity just lying here sounded positively _sinful_ , and he was going to do everything possible to do just that.

"Finally got some a'yer hangups sorted out," Shiro continued, as he thumped down on the floor a bit to the right of Uryuu's head. "Pity ya can't throw 'r catch things fer yer life, but I guess that's jes th'way it goes."

Uryuu hand throbbed at the reminder of the horribly fumbled catch, and he shot Shiro a dark look. "Forgive me for never practicing my _sword-on-a-rope_ skills. It's so common in the human world, after all."

Ichigo's laughter interrupted them, and Uryuu shot his friend an unimpressed glower, though he couldn't dredge up the energy to do much more than that.

"Shiro's style is really wild, isn't it?" Ichigo asked with a faint smirk. "I'm not that good at it either, really."

"Cause ya never practice, Aibo!" Shiro protested, then stuck his tongue out at Ichigo. "You two heathens can't unnerstand th' awesomeness that is me!"

Ichigo snorted, then settled down on the floor near enough that Uryuu could see him without straining. "I think you'll be able to keep up with at least Gin, at this point."

"But not Aizen," Uryuu finished softly, as he turned his gaze back to the void above them.

"Well, we've still got time."

"How much of this will translate over?" Uryuu wondered aloud, as he finally shifted to a slightly more dignified position, though he was still on his back and staring through the window above them. "Kurosaki-sensei said that Shinigami sometimes use the dangai to train, so it has to have some effect, but…"

Ichigo snorted. "It doesn't have much to do with being a Shinigami, I think."

Uryuu frowned and gave his friend a look, silently urging the other on.

"I looked it up after the first time I noticed having a fight with Shiro in here had an effect out there," Ichigo said. He tapped his temple with one finger. "Muscle memory forms up here. We can't get stronger physically — well, maybe Shinigami can? I wonder if Goat-face knows — but fighting moves and habits? We're still learning those."

"I see."

"It'll probably take you a bit to sync back up with your body — like, say, in here you can keep up with Shiro, but it'll probably take a bit of time to get used to keeping track of the same thing in your real body — but it should all carry over."

Uryuu puzzled that over in his mind. "That means I won't be able to physically keep up, even if I can perceive his movements."

Ichigo shrugged. "Well, probably. You can just reinforce yourself back to that point, though, right?"

"Maybe?" Uryuu frowned, as he thought it through. He had no doubt that his improvements during the fight were just higher levels of reinforcement becoming more and more natural, but what effect would that have upon his real body? His reiryoku was circulating constantly through his body — and had been for hours at this point — thanks to his larger reserves, but it was mostly undirected power. Which meant it was naturally trying to find a balance point. But giving it direction might tip that balance, and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out the consequences of putting himself _out_ of balance.

"I believe it is time for a rest," Zangetsu's calm voice interrupted his thought. At the stares of the three — Uryuu's blank, Ichigo's questioning, and Shiro's mutinous — he raised one hand and continued, "Uryuu needs time to accustom himself to the flow of his new power. I suggest that he spend a few hours properly meditating and working with his control, now that we have the time."

"Eh? But I never had to do anything like that!" Ichigo exclaimed.

Shiro snorted, reached out, and thumped Ichigo in the back of the head. "That's cause it was always _ours_ , Aibo! It's gotten bigger, but ya always had us in yer soul. A lotta koneko's power never started as his, ya know!"

Uryuu blinked, then acknowledged the truth in Shiro's words. He really hadn't been consciously controlling _everything_ he had access to since Hueco Mundo, just a tiny fragment that equaled about what he was used to using. The rest had simply circulated freely, adding passive enhancements as he fought.

That would need to be corrected, Uryuu concluded, as he pushed himself upright. Control was vital to his style of fighting — even more now than before, he suspected — and having so much of what he was essentially uncontrolled was… a bit frightening. It meant that he couldn't know between one second and the next what would happen with his abilities, whether they would work or not, and against someone like Aizen, that would be instantly fatal.

Grudgingly, Shiro stood up and rested his sword on his right shoulder again.

"I'll be back ta kick yer ass in a bit, koneko!" he shouted over his shoulder as he wandered off, flipping the Old Man the bird with his free hand as he did.

Ichigo sighed in exasperation, muttering something about battle-mad spirits (Uryuu gifted Ichigo with the desert-dry _look_ that comment deserved) then stood to follow his doppleganger. "Guess I should go keep him entertained. We'll… try not to disturb you much."

"You'll try not to disturb me much," Uryuu corrected Ichigo dryly. "He'll do his best to bring this tower down around my ears to make meditation 'interesting'."

Ichigo shrugged awkwardly, and Uryuu could read a faint sheepishness about him, before wandering off in the same direction as Shiro. It didn't take look before Uryuu's ears picked up the faint sound of metal on metal, followed by shattering glass as someone was hurled bodily through a window.

Uryuu shivered, hoping that is was just an internal window, or even one out into the corridor. Shiro could remind him all he wanted about everything being 'just in his mind', but Uryuu never wanted to experience such a claustrophobic thing again. He just couldn't convince himself that moving or breathing through such a crushing medium was possible.

"Taming the power to your control will assist you greatly in the trials to come," the Old Man spoke up, drawing Uryuu from his thoughts. "It is the first step you must accomplish if you wish to have a chance at gaining bankai."

"I thought I had to gain bankai out there?" Uryuu asked, as he looked thoughtfully up at the sanest part of Ichigo's soul. "And… didn't you say that Ichigo was the best one to ask about bankai?"

"Yes," Zangetsu acknowledged with an incline of his head. "However, in these basics, Ichigo is… less than ideal."

Uryuu frowned, as he tried to read the intention behind the Old Man's words. He couldn't spot anything, though, beyond assistance from an experienced spirit who wanted him to have a chance to succeed.

"Do I really have a chance?" he finally asked, putting voice to the nagging doubt at the center of his current troubles. "All of this. The training an the fighting with Shiro and the meditation you want me to do… will any of it _do anything_ for me?"

Zangetsu's face twisted into a frightening scowl, and Uryuu's knuckles turned white as he resisted the urge to flee.

"Every step forward brings you a step closer to victory. No training is wasted. If you approach this time with that attitude… no. Nothing here will help you."

"That's not what I meant!" Uryuu snapped back, defending himself. He forced a hand to unclench, then gestured at the far window, down the corridor in the direction he and Kurosaki-sensei had been running before this unscheduled stop. "I meant, before, when I fought Gin, and Shiro had to take over to get bankai against him, and Aizen is even stronger, and…"

He forced himself to stop rambling, and made a noise of discontent as he buried his head in his hands. Fine tremors shook his fingers as he remembered the last fight with Gin, helpless and at the traitor's mercy. The fight with Szayelporro had been bad enough, but at least there he had felt… outmaneuvered, certainly, and at a disadvantage experience-wise, but Gin… Gin had just been _toying_ with him at the end.

"You are worried that this month will not push you far _enough_."

"Yes."

The silence stretched between them, and Uryuu didn't have the heart to raise his head to look at the Old Man, certain that he would see… he wasn't sure what he dreaded the most. Disinterest? Disgust? Anger? Rejection?

( _I_ _'m the reason Ichigo is dead. They reason they're trapped. If only I was faster-better-stronger…_ )

"Enough." Zangetsu's voice broke through his roiling emotions, and Uryuu started when he felt the other's hand resting on his shoulder. "There is no shame in grief, only in shouldering burdens not your own. Ichigo made his choice on that rooftop, just as Ulquiorra made his own, and you as well. There was nothing you could do to prevent Ichigo's fall, and _we do not blame you._ "

Uryuu shivered at the certainty in Zangetsu's voice, and raised his head slightly, only to start when he realized the other was kneeling in front of him, gaze as inscrutable as always, but expression kind. Zangetsu watched him for a moment, then nodded sharply.

"I…" he paused, glanced over Uryuu's shoulder where the sound of combat rose sharply once more, then back down at Uryuu, " _We_ will endeavor to remind you of that whenever you falter."

"Because you don't want to die," Uryuu grit out, as he looked away from Zangetsu's gaze. "And a troubled vessel won't survive long."

"No. Because you are _Ichigo_ _'s friend_ and you deserve our support," Zangetsu responded easily, taking no offense from Uryuu's tone or words. "Ichigo made a foolish choice, perhaps, but it is not your place to shoulder the burden of the result."

"But I—"

"You promised to continue where he faltered," Zangetsu agreed. "But would you, or would you not, have done your best to continue even if we hadn't become a part of you?"

Uryuu bit back his immediate reaction ( _of course I would, he_ _'s my friend, my_ _ **only**_ _real friend, and I promised and I don_ _'t break promises like that!_ ) in order to truly consider it. Would he? Outside of the heat of that moment in battle, that terrible moment with Ichigo strung up like an animal to slaughter, would he have continued to fight in Ichigo's place?

"I would," he finally breathed out, allowing himself to acknowledge the truth of his gut reaction. "Ichigo is… was…"

Zangetsu gave a small, wry smile. "Ichigo is truly something, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Uryuu agreed.

"Then it is your place to shoulder that promise, to continue where Ichigo cannot, and it is our place to support you when you falter, as friends and as zanpakutou," Zangetsu said. "It is not your place to shoulder the blame for actions and decisions that Ichigo and Ulquiorra made of their own free will. And it is our place to remind you of that truth whenever you forget."

Uryuu sighed, reluctantly acknowledging Zangetsu's words.

"Good. Now, meditate and familiarize yourself with your new strength."

"Meditating within my meditation," Uryuu commented wryly, as he rearranged his body to be comfortable and tried to surreptitiously scrub away the few tears that had fallen during the conversation. "Are there any other recursive tasks you want me to do?"

A flicker of amusement passed over the Old Man's face, nearly too quick to catch, before the man rose back to his full height. "No. Focus on your task. I will keep the other two from overly disturbing you."

Uryuu watched the spirit leave, then let his head fall forward so his chin was resting on his chest. The sound of combat in the distance was a distraction, but one he was starting to get used to.

He supposed it was time to see what sort of mess his previously tidy core of reiryoku had become.

* * *

It cannot be stated how much I love Tremor230 for the sheer fact that they are awesome and put up with super-huge rambling PMs about problems and concerns I have with the story. And that they release idea-bunnies in front of my rabid plot-fox to keep it entertained. So much awesome.

Ja ne, minna!


	7. What a Wonderful Plan

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and those people/companies that publish Bleach. I own nothing except my meagre attempts at playing in his sandbox.

Warnings: Pretty much everybody's mouth, described violence (it IS Bleach, after all), mostly canon up to the fight with Butterfly-Aizen then kiss canon goodbye. Also unbetaed

And now for a long chapter. Enjoy, everyone! Next chapter hits the timetravel bit, I swear.

( _Everything's green_ ) - Subconscious flow of thoughts  
( _*Why is everything green?*_ ) - Uryuu actively thinking  
(*Because it is.*) - Ichigo actively thinking  
( ***Who th'hell cares?!*** ) - Shiro actively thinking  
( _*Peace, hollow.*_ ) - Old Man Zangetsu actively thinking

* * *

The sounds of fighting, of clanging steel and warping metal, suddenly ceased, replaced by the crash of shattering windows and the tinkle of falling glass. The Old Man's deep voice rumbled in the distance, too muffle by the walls for Uryuu to get a real sense of what he was saying, but from the sudden silence he had either convinced the other two to stop fighting — unlikely — or forcefully reminded them that there were other towers to fight inside.

The silence that settled over Uryuu with the three spirits elsewhere was unsettling. It pressed in on him like a physical thing, no matter how much he tried to remind himself that _this_ was what he was supposed to be used to. Not the noise and boisterous presence, not the cackles and wash of bloodlust.

( _*How did my world change so completely in just a few hours?*_ ) Uryuu wondered, as his eye slid back open and he tilted his head to stare out the window. The corridor in the dangai stretched on into the distance, a pathway to a future he wasn't sure he could face, leading towards a confrontation he couldn't see a way of winning. ( _*I wanted to be powerful. I wanted to prove myself better than all those foolish Shinigami, teach them that the Quincy were to be respected. Destroy them for what they did to my master.*_ )

Uryuu flexed his hands, rubbed at the toughened skin on his left fingers, legacy of his archery. ( _*When did that change to just helping Ichigo? To going along with his hair-brained schemes that somehow worked? Until this last one. Until_ _…*_ )

He dragged in a breath through his suddenly tight throat, scrubbed at his face and knocking aside his glasses as tears crept down his cheeks. It was all he could do to banish the image of Ichigo, strung up to die, from his mind.

( _*It doesn_ _'t matter,*_ ) Uryuu reaffirmed to himself, as he carefully folded his glasses and set them by his thigh. ( _*It doesn_ _'t matter when everything changed. It just matters that it did. Ichigo is dead, and a part of me, and though I'm no longer a true Quincy I can still hold to that code.*_ )

( _*Ichigo is dead, and I promised to see the rest of this through,*_ ) Uryuu reminded himself. A thought had the dao settled across his lap again. He took the time to study it, trailing his fingers down the flat of the blade along the shinogi, the ridge separating the edge from the back. He had never labeled himself a swordsman before, even with the practice he had put into learning the skill, but this blade, this huge dao, was one of his weapons now. It was a legacy, left to him by his friend, and he refused to be unworthy of it.

( _*Ichigo is dead, and it_ _'s left to me to pick up the pieces and continue on.*_ )

( _*Ichigo is dead.*_ )

Uryuu hunched over the sword in his lap, letting his tears fall freely for once. Letting himself mourn for the friend he hadn't realized he'd accepted until he had seen that friend fall. Here, in the safety of his mind, with the two troublemakers driven away by the Old Man, Uryuu let the enormity of the past couple hours crash over him. He cried himself out, quiet sobs shaking his body, until his eyes burned and his throat stung and no more tears would come.

The material of his uniform scratched his face as he scrubbed at his eyes with a forearm, trying to drive away the burning and the aching. But despite the discomfort, he felt… cleaner. Not better, precisely — Ichigo's death was still raw, still a bleeding wound in his heart —, but like he'd poured antiseptic all over it. It stung, it burned, but it no longer tore at him the same. His mind was finally clear, water instead of brittle glass, and he took a moment to relax in the silence.

He wouldn't disgrace the legacy Ichigo left him.

( _*I should probably get to work,*_ ) Uryuu finally admitted, as he shook the last of the muzziness from his mind.

After everything he'd been through, after all the trial and pain, it was an immense relief when falling into proper meditation was as routine as ever. He gave himself time to settle, letting his thoughts drift this way and that — on Aizen, on Ichigo, on his own father and Ichigo's siblings and the war itself. He acknowledged them, let them drift away, and turned his attention to his body.

Uryuu could feel his mouth tightening into a thin grimace, as he faced the mess that his reiryoku had become beneath the surface. It was a tangled, jumbled mess of different colors and strengths that flowed every which way. It was a miracle, Uryuu realized with a start, that he was still functioning as well as he was, with this sort of mess twisting through his body.

His own reiryoku, his core of power, had spun out like an unraveling ball of emerald yarn. It blended into the other strands seamlessly, and a closer look told him that the emerald color was slowly bleeding into many of the other colors, changing them to match his own.

How in the world was he going to turn this knotted, twisted mess into something usable?

Uryuu began to slowly pick through the mess, categorizing the colors and who they had likely come from: corrosive ribbons of green-edged black likely belonged to Ulquiorra, and the cheerful golden strands felt like Inoue. He found tiny threads of pitch black, just as corrosive as Ulquiorra's, that he could match to no one he had met. And, of course, the rope-thick braid of gold-blue-red-black that dominated the mess and resonated with Ichigo's unmistakable signature.

That one he would be leaving be, Uryuu resolved, as he gently nudged a loop of it aside so he could see if there were other colors mixed up in the mess. He refused to accidentally erase his friend from existence, and he had the chilling feeling that if he messed too much with that braid, that's exactly what would happen.

So, he had to go about this logically. Every strand that didn't belong to Ichigo was connected to his core, mixing slowly together to blend the disparate colors into a uniform appearance. It was that blended power that he was drawing upon whenever he manipulated the reishi around him. He needed to hurry that process along, removing the lingering traces of outsiders from his body before something happened to damage his body beyond repair.

Uryuu suspected it was only the fact that both Inoue and Ulquiorra had been healing-oriented that had left him capable of continuing on even with their reiatsu swelling his reserves.

He started at his core, tugging lightly on a ribbon of Ulquiorra's power and drawing it further into the emerald pool. As he watched, the bit he had pushed into his core slowly dispersed, mixing in until there was no sign of it remaining. Satisfied that this was his answer, Uryuu turned to the task at hand.

It was slow going, like untangling a huge basket of yarn. He had to constantly stop to untangle the strand he was pulling in, or else risk damaging other parts of the mess. Inoue's power seemed to come more willingly to his call, slipping through the rest like waxed thread and dissolving smoothly into the growing pool of reiryoku at his center. Ulquiorra's was as stubborn and contrary as the being himself, balking at his touch and tangling around every possible obstacle in an attempt to remain free. More than once he had to coax it free of Ichigo's braid, coiling it tightly in his mental hands and shoving the entire coil deep into his core in order to disperse it.

The tiny threads of black were, in comparison, easy. He had to sweep his entire body in order to find them, since they were just floating around through his body like scraps from sewing, but they put up no more resistance to his direction than real thread did.

As he swept for the threads, he carefully nudged and shifted Ichigo's powers around. While he had resolved to mostly leave it alone, it had turned out that even the braid was tangled and knotted, and Uryuu refused to leave such a mess behind when it was probably going to cause difficulties down the line. So he carefully hunted down ends, pried apart knots, and smoothed out the flow of power until everything was neat and tidy.

In the process, he found a second core of power, larger than his own, from which the braid sprung. Almost reverently, Uryuu reached out and ghosted a mental touch over the edge of the core, over the edge of what he suspected was _Ichigo_ _'s soul_. It swirled with the colors of the braid, like a kaleidoscope of gold and blue and red and black and a tiny, tiny hint of green. Surprised, he traced the green until he found the source, several thin threads of power stretching between his core and Ichigo's. There, he noticed that his own core had tiny threads of Ichigo's colors in it too — he had just overlooked them because he hadn't been paying too much attention beyond making sure that the rogue powers mixed properly.

Uryuu hesitated, staring at the dual cores and the threads of power that stretched between them. If he left it like this, he would no longer be in danger of self-destruction so long as he regularly meditated and kept everything tidy. Ichigo and he would never be more than two individual spirits possessing the same body.

But his control over Ichigo's powers would always be subpar at best. The threads would allow him access, but those skills and abilities would never be his.

Fighting Aizen required a better grasp than that, Uryuu knew. A Quincy's skill set was powerful in its own right, but nothing he had thrown at Aizen had worked. And while Ichigo and Shiro could work through him, his body would never work seamlessly for them. Not with such a large distance between their cores, not when his body was still fighting against the foreign power, rejecting a second source, a second _soul_ , with everything it had.

Reluctantly, Uryuu retreated back to the surface, unwilling to make the final decision without speaking with Ichigo first. Even if he was certain he already knew the idealistic idiot's decision, Ichigo had a right to state it to his face.

To his dying day, Uryuu would forever deny that he _squeaked_ when he opened his eyes and came nose to nose with Shiro's extremely blurry face. Startled, he shoved the albino backwards and felt around for his glasses, thankfully finding them exactly where he had left them.

"Sorry," Ichigo said, amusement filling his voice. "Shiro kept wanting to poke you, but the Old Man threatened to keep him from fighting for _weeks_ if he disturbed you."

"Ichigo," Uryuu growled, as he fixed his friend with a dark look. "Why are the two of you here? Weren't you off causing destruction in another tower?"

"We were, until we noticed things changing," Ichigo answered. "I… didn't really notice until now, but… it was almost like we had been moving through quicksand, and now we're not."

"What Aibo's _not_ sayin'," Shiro cut in with a bloodthirsty grin, "Issat he manage t'slice a tower in half sudd'nly, when b'fore we were only managin' ta cut beams. Got somethin' t'say, Koneko?"

Uryuu rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest as he glowered at the two. "Yes. Ichigo, your power is absurd, and doesn't play nice with others, and was a great big tangled _mess_ that was barely contained, and I've never seen a worse set of knots even in the communal handicrafts yarn bin."

Ichigo gave a sheepish laugh, as he rubbed at the back of his head and looked anywhere but at Uryuu. "So… I don't think it's normally like that?"

Uryuu resisted the urge to bury is head in his hands, though he couldn't resist the urge to sigh heavily. "And what part of this entire situation is _normal_ , you idiot? Besides, we still technically have a problem."

"Eh? Ya gonna go boom 'cause ya can't handle all our awesome?" Shiro asked.

"No," Uryuu answered, as he shot a quelling look at Shiro, hoping the spirit actually shut up for once. "I managed to straighten everything out, and I should have a better grasp at both of your powers now — and, I dread to add, you should have an easier time controlling my body if it comes to that. But…"

"But we're still two separate people," Ichigo finished, his words startling Uryuu with their pointedness. "So it's still going to be trouble, and 'better' isn't enough if we've still got to face Aizen."

Uryuu inclined his head slightly. He gathered up his courage with both hands, struggling to find the corrects words, struggling to not sound self-serving or unappreciative of what Ichigo had already given him, when—

"Do it," Ichigo said, breaking through his spiraling thoughts.

"Pardon?"

Ichigo shrugged awkwardly, looking away then forcing himself to look back at Uryuu, determination burning in his gaze. "You're going to ask me if you can merge our powers properly. Do it."

"You realize—"

"We're already part-way there, aren't we?" Ichigo asked. "We'd already have to share some connection if you already do what you can. Maybe that happened when we initially merged, or maybe it happened when Old Man Zangetsu forced us to fight the first time, or maybe even when you asked me to control the platform while you gathered reiatsu. Does it matter when it happened?"

Mute, Uryuu shook his head. It really didn't matter when, only that it had already begun.

"And if we want to have a real chance at winning, we have to work together, right?"

"Yes," Uryuu acknowledged, ignoring the pain that came with that acceptance. This would mark the end of their existence as different beings, he was certain. This merging would see them made into something new, beyond just two souls in a single body. After this… after this, there was no going back.

"Then do it," Ichigo ordered. "I already told you, even if it means I have to become something like a zanpakutou to you, if it helps to kill Aizen, I'll do anything."

"And… after Aizen?" Uryuu hesitantly asked.

A muscled in Ichigo's jaw twitched, and Uryuu could see his friend's hands were clenched so tightly the knuckles were turning white.

"We'll face that when it comes," Ichigo promised quietly. "We'll face it together, like friends do, and we'll forge our own path one day at a time. I can't promised that I won't annoy you sometimes, or that we won't fight, but I can promise you that I'll always have your back, because that's what friends do."

Uryuu gave Ichigo a searching look, trying desperately to find any hint of reluctance, or dislike, or, well, _anything_ that would signal Ichigo's rejection of this idea. But there was nothing, only determination and a willingness to see it through to the end.

Bowing his head to the inevitable, Uryuu shot Shiro a pointed look. "Don't bother me while I'm working on this. Or we _all_ 'go boom' as you so elegantly put it."

Shiro leaned back, raising both hands in a faux-surrender that Uryuu didn't believe for a moment; the mischievous grin gave the other away completely.

"Kurosaki, keep your crazy contained for once," Uryuu said with resignation, as he settled back into a meditative pose. "Or I'll convince the Old Man to put _both_ of you in time out."

"Ouch!" Ichigo put a hand to his heart. "Straight for the big guns, Ishida!"

"I've discovered it to be necessary," Uryuu shot back, the familiar banter soothing his mind in a way that all of Ichigo's reassurances hadn't. It gave him hope that, despite being about to erase the last remaining distance between them, nothing much would truly change. They'd still be friends, still banter and fight and snap and snarl, but always, always have each other's backs.

He shot one last look at both versions of his best friend, then let himself sink back into his meditation. This time, he waved aside his thoughts, focusing on his body and the reiryoku contained within him.

The colors were beginning to swirl together faster, Uryuu realized, as he watched the two cores for a moment. There was more green bleeding into Ichigo's multicolored core, and more wisps of color were beginning to show inside his previously solid color. Whether this was a result of their agreement or something that was inevitable, Uryuu couldn't tell.

All that mattered was that it was already happening, even without his active assistance.

He accepted the inevitable. Reached out and nudged the two cores closer. Watched as tendrils became cords became ropes, until there was no distance remaining and the colors swirled together seamlessly.

Uryuu wondered, as he watched the colors shift and slide around one another, touching but not mixing, not turning into some single-color ball of muddy-colored power. He wondered if this was how the Shinigami looked inside, underneath the dominant reiatsu color they showed to the world. If each spirit carried its own color, all twined together, with only the current controller's color showing.

It didn't matter, he reminded himself sharply, as he mentally reached into their new, gigantic pool of reiryoku and teased free a strand of his own green. Whether Shinigami looked like this or not, this was how _he_ was, and that was all that mattered.

He contemplated just weaving his own strand into the braid that already existed, contemplated taking the relatively easy way out, then frowned in disgust at his own thoughts. No. He couldn't do that. He had the time to do it right, to unbraid every last inch of Ichigo's four-way braid and turn it into a proper five-strand braid.

Uryuu set to work, to carefully teasing apart the four colors already present, strengthening a strand here and smoothing out another there, even as he quickly and neatly added his own color to the mix. He lost himself in the work, in smoothing and settling everything together, turning out neat braids of power that stretched from his core to the very tips of his fingers and toes.

When he was finally satisfied, he slowly withdrew from his center and drew back into the mindscape. He prepared himself for the inevitable, for Shiro to be invading his personal space, or fighting with Ichigo, or otherwise being the insane idiot that he was growing to know.

Instead, he got silence.

Not the silence of being alone, because he could still hear someone breathing, but it was still an unnerving thing to return to.

Uryuu opened his eyes, blinked, and discretely pinched himself just to be sure.

Shiro was in a corner. Sulking. With no blade in sight.

Ichigo was in another corner, arms crossed over his chest, and pointedly looking out the window. Also with no blade in sight.

Both blades, he discovered, were laying on the floor next to Zangetsu, who was sitting across from him looking completely unruffled.

"Shiro became interested in testing out the changes he could feel," the Old Man answered his unspoken question. "Ichigo threw him through the ceiling, a chunk of which nearly fell on you."

"Thank you," Uryuu replied tightly, as he eyed the chunk of metal off to the side that he hadn't noticed before the Old Man had indicated it.

"Ya know, when you said you'd get Zangetsu to put us in time out, I didn't think you meant it _literally_ ," Ichigo snarked, as he turned from the window and shot Uryuu an unimpressed look.

"And I didn't think you'd actually _need_ it," Uryuu shot back, before unfolding his legs and starting to stretch a bit, working out the kinks that his mind assured him he should have. "Are you always this destructive, or is this a new thing?"

The sheepish look Ichigo shot him told Uryuu everything he needed to know.

"Nevermind," Uryuu grumbled, as he looked between the three aspects of his best friend that were now part of him. Nothing seemed to have changed about them, except that Ichigo's hair sported streaks of black through it, and Shiro's white hair laid a bit flatter. That was a relief. "I want to let those changes settle for a time, before we go back to training."

"A wise choice," Zangetsu agreed.

"Well, what th'hell're we s'posed t'do until then?" Shiro grouched, as he turned around to face the rest of them. It was clear he was still sulking, but at least he was paying attention to them instead of plotting revenge now.

"Do we have a plan?" Uryuu asked the others. "For Aizen, I mean. Everything I tried before just bounced right off of him."

"Yeh! Jes lemme at 'im!" Shiro crowed, as he mimed ripping something apart. "I'll tear th'fucker ta shreds with bankai!"

"Because that worked so well with Gin," Ichigo shot his doppleganger down, then turned his attention to Uryuu. "What about those weird black arrows you keep using? I don't remember you ever doing that before."

"You mean that attack that _shattered without doing anything?_ " Uryuu shot back.

"Hey! It fucking _exploded_ in that Hollow's back! That's hardly _nothing!_ "

"Maybe because that was a Hollow, and Aizen said I was using pure Hollow reiatsu to do that?"

Ichigo scoffed. "Are you really going to believe anything that traitor says? Didn't we have a talk about this before?"

"When it makes logical sense? Considering the only way I know how to use them is to be so angry I can barely think straight?" Uryuu shook his head. "Yes. That's the perfect type of attack to use on a man so intelligent he's been planning this _since before you were born_."

Ichigo hesitated a moment, then shrugged. "Fifteen years of planning compared to… how many years has he lived? I mean, jii-san said he's been alive for more than a thousand years, and I think Hat'n'Clogs mentioned that they were banished nearly a hundred years ago?"

"And yet Aizen managed to pull the wool over all their eyes," Uryuu replied, tone dry. "Still don't think I like the odds of getting blind angry at him in order to try an attack I already know won't work."

A choking noise caught Uryuu's attention, and he glowered over at Shiro, who was convulsing with silent laughter in his corner, clutching at his sides and clearly laughing so hard he couldn't actually breath in order to make a sound.

"Something to say?" Uryuu bit out.

"Ahahahaha! Aha! Aaahh, y-yeah! Ya two!" Shiro bit out between gasps of laughter. "Thinkin' Aizen's so all knowin'!"

"Hey!" Ichigo interjected. "I was saying we shouldn't trust what he said!"

"An' yet ya _still_ don't know what Koneko's been throwin' 'round!"

"Then enlighten us, oh wise one," Uryuu drawled, as he carefully tamped down his growing frustration with Shiro.

Shiro snorted once more, then managed to get his laughter under control, though his grin was wider and toothier than usual. "Well, th'bastard _was_ part right, anyway. Ya were pullin' up Hollow reiatsu in yer body an' usin' jes that, n'stead'a yer normal power. Sommat 'bout wantin' t'see th'bastard _writhe_ that I can totally unnerstand! But th'basis a'those arrows? Totally mine, bitch."

"Something you never told me about your skill set?" Ichigo asked pointedly. "I don't recall you ever using a bow."

"Eh? Cause I can't. Koneko 'ere took _my_ Getsuga Tenshou, forced it inta n'arrow, an' used Hollow reiatsu t'fill it out." Shiro stuck his tongue out at Uryuu. "Prolly why it only 'appened when 'e was pissy, 'cause 'e was relyin' on instinct, an' insticts're _my_ territory."

Uryuu grimaced at the thought, then cut a sideways look at Ichigo to assess his friend's reaction. The idea that he was pulling up instincts _not his own_ to do things…

"You get used to it," Ichigo murmured just loud enough for Uryuu to hear. "You just… learn to take it, and use it to survive. And try not to let his head swell too much."

That brought a faint smile to Uryuu's lips, because Ichigo's dismay at the idea of Shiro with an even bigger ego was writ large across his face.

"Hey, hey! Th'hell're ya whisperin' 'bout, Aibo?" Shiro cut in the moment he realized neither of them were paying attention to him.

"I was just wondering what to call—"

"No." Uryuu glowered at his best friend, cutting him off from that train of thought. "You aren't naming it. You aren't even going to _think_ of naming it. As far as I care, it's just a Getsuga Tenshou I can use with my bow."

Ichigo blinked, the corners of his mouth quirking up in amusement. "You really hate it when I name things, don't you?"

"You named him _Shiro_ ," Uryuu reiterated. "You named a mod-soul _Kon_. Tell me again why I should let you name _anything?_ "

Ichigo raised his hands in surrender, though the laughter didn't leave his expression. "Okay, okay. It's a Getsuga Tenshou in arrow form. But that _does_ give me an idea. Why don't we use that — no! Here me out. You were doing it uncontrolled before, right? Shiro's always grousing about how saying the name makes it stronger, so wouldn't that go double for knowing what you're actually doing?"

"If you'll recall, I _did_ hit him with a named Getsuga Tenshou."

"Yeah," Ichigo retorted. "And it cut him, remember? Before he started cheating with both hands thanks to that stupid rock. Besides, arrows are more concentrated, right? So bankai Getsuga arrows—"

"Ichigo."

Ichigo frowned at Uryuu, clearly wondering why the other had interrupted him.

"Can you hit the broad side of a barn from ten paces with a bow?" Uryuu asked.

"Huh?"

Uryuu held up his closed fist, ticking a finger up with every point he made. "First, you said I'm not allowed bankai until we fight, and I hardly think the dangai is a good place to _physically throw each other around_ , no matter what your father has done. Second, have you ever picked up a bow in your life? Third, archery is hardly as simple as 'point and shoot'—"

"Alright! I get it!" Ichigo snapped. "The hell do you suggest then, that we just roll over and let him win?!"

"At least bring some rationality to your damn plans!"

"At least I have one!"

Shiro's cackles distracted both of them long enough to turn and shout "SHUT UP!" at the bloodthirsty doppleganger, leaving the other cackling even louder and ignoring their combined glares.

Frustrated, Uryuu rose and stalked over to Shiro. He grabbed the back of the Hollow's top, yanked the spirit off the floor, and flung him as hard as he could. The window made a satisfying _**crash**_ as Shiro flew through it, and the spirit's shocked expression was even _more_ satisfying.

"Feel better?" Ichigo asked, as Uryuu sat back down on the floor with a huff.

"Not really," Uryuu admitted grumpily. "I can't think of a better plan than trying to fill Aizen with arrows—"

"Because that's your normal plan," Ichigo interjected.

Uryuu shot Ichigo a quelling glare. "Archer. Deal with it. I seem to recall _your_ normal plan is 'chop at it until it stops moving'."

"Hey! I don't _chop_ at things!"

"No? Not even that Menos Grande?"

"Sh-shut up," Ichigo muttered as he looked away. "You didn't do much better."

"At least I tried to hit the mask."

A rush of bloodlust was Uryuu's only warning, and he flattened himself to the floor in order to avoid Shiro's flying tackle. He reached up, grabbed Shiro's ankle as it passed over him, and twisted around as best he could so that Shiro slammed face first into the floor.

As he did, he caught a glimpse of Zangetsu, who had retreated to one side during the arguing. The spirit was sitting with his head in his hands, fingers buried deep in his hair, and an air of resignation about him.

As if feeling Uryuu's attention on him, Zangetsu slowly raised his head back up, fixing the three of them with a gimlet stare, and spoke through clenched teeth, "Perhaps you should all take an accounting of your skills, and plan from there."

"Alright, Old Man, spill!" Ichigo declared, as he shifted closer to the spirit and jabbed him in the chest with a finger. "You've obviously seen something we've missed, so go on and enlighten us."

The Old Man narrowed his eyes at Ichigo, as he knocked the teen's hand aside. "I will not solve every problem for you, not when there remains ample time to prepare. A potential solution is within your grasp, find it."

Uryuu frowned and turned Zangetsu's words over in his mind, even as he absently tugged Shiro back to the floor when the other tried to rise. He wasn't going to chance Ichigo's other half getting another shot at him while he tried to puzzle out the Old Man's oblique hint.

It was a skill they had — or perhaps only one of them had? The Old Man hadn't hinted either way — that they were overlooking, that would be useful in this situation. Uryuu ran through a mental list of every Quincy skill he had, and promptly discarded most of them. They had already talked about using the Getsuga arrow against Aizen, though perhaps using a Ginto as a medium would make it more dangerous? Hirenkyaku was just a high speed technique, and he didn't think he could use ransoutengai while someone else was—

Or could he?

Uryuu turned his attention outward, watching as Ichigo continued to pester Zangetsu.

They had already shared control once. Already balanced themselves on a knife's edge of ' _please work_ ' and ' _I don_ _'t want to die_ '.

Could they do it again? More to the point, could they do it while Shiro or Ichigo were in control, with Uryuu acting from within?

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout, Koneko?" Shiro demanded, as he finally gave up escaping and twisted around so he could drape himself over Uryuu's shoulders. "Ya got all quiet an' plottin'-lookin'."

Shiro's words caught Ichigo's attention, and the sudden lack of pestering caught Zangetsu's attention in turn. Uryuu could see a tiny smirk on the Old Man's face, and felt a bit of tension uncoil at that — maybe he was on the right path?

"Our problem is that we think only bankai can help us beat Aizen, and that the Getsuga arrows are one of our best ideas as to _how_. But I can't go bankai and none of you can hit the broad side of a barn using a bow," Uryuu said, laying out the crux of the matter. He caught a strange hint of amusement on the Old Man's face, just a tiny expression gone as soon as it came, but it left Uryuu puzzled. What was so amusing?

Ichigo made an impatient 'go on' gesture, and Uryuu gave his head a shake to clear his thoughts out again before he continued. "But we've already solved this."

"Huh? Sorry, Uryuu, not following," Ichigo admitted after a moment of silence. "Mind not being as obtuse as the Old Man?"

"In the trip between Hueco Mundo and Karakura, what did we do, Ichigo?"

Ichigo's eyes widened as he made the connection, then narrowed again as he thought it over. "That was really difficult, though. Think we could actually do that in a fight with Aizen?"

"We'll need to practice it," Uryuu admitted, as he remembered the struggle for control they had gone through. "But I think it will be easier with our reiryoku put back in order."

Shiro cackled right in Uryuu's ear, then jerked back as Uryuu swung a hand at him. "So I do get'ta rip Aizen ta shreds!"

"Do you even know the concept of sharing?" Uryuu muttered, then spoke up. "We'll have to see. We know that Ichigo and I can share control, at least, and we know that Shiro can go bankai…"

"We'll need to see if I can, too," Ichigo said. "Uryuu's right, Shiro, we don't know which pairing is better yet. And I guess we won't until we try it."

"Tch," Shiro grumbled, as he flipped Ichigo off. "Whatever. Ain't no time like th'present, eh?"

Abruptly, Shiro vanished from beside Uryuu.

Uryuu cursed, shot Ichigo a dark look, and promptly chased the unpredictable spirit back to the real world.

* * *

Shiro cackled softly as he settled into Uryuu's body again, noting instantly the way it felt more natural than the last time he had taken over.

"Hey! What the hell are you even doing?" Aibo's father snarled at him, as Shiro pushed himself to his feet and stretched.

Shiro graced the man with a toothy grin — which apparently looked disturbing on Koneko's pretty face, if the man's blanch was anything to go by — and pointed the dao straight at the man's chest. "Testin' somethin', Goat-face, so shaddup an' lemme work!"

As the man sputtered denials and objections to his 'hijacking' of Uryuu's body, Shiro turned away and held the dao out to the side. "Bankai! Enshroud the world in a moonless night, Kakure Ichigo!"

He idly swung the long daito about a bit, pushing the mantle out of his way with his free hand, as he felt Uryuu come forward. His new landlord was radiating exasperation and annoyance, which made him cackle — what did the little kitten _think_ was going to happen as soon as he suggested the solution?

Except… Shiro frowned down at his blade, completely at a loss as to how to proceed. "Er… now what?"

"How should I know?!" Ichigo's father shot back, "I don't even know what the hell you're trying to do, besides mess around!"

"Shaddup! Not talkin' t'ya, Goat-face!" Shiro snapped at the man.

( _*I thought you were paying attention when Ichigo and I had done this earlier,*_ ) Uryuu said, annoyance shifting to amusement.

Shiro huffed and rested the daito on his shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he tried to work through what he had seen and felt when Aibo and Koneko had pulled this crazy stunt off the first time. "I only saw it from Aibo's side a'it, Koneko, an' it weren't much t'look at! Jes… suddenly there was a bit'a space, y'know? Like ya weren't fully in control, an' Aibo could wriggle in."

( _*Because I_ _ **wasn**_ _ **'t**_ _fully in control,*_ ) Uryuu retorted. ( _*I ceded a bit of control to Ichigo, and tried not to fight too hard when he took it.*_ )

"Tch," Shiro grunted. He was already getting frustrated with this stupid idea, and he'd only been at it for a few minutes! "So… th'hell do I pass t'ya? Ya passed that platform t'Aibo, an' it was a _thing_ fer him t'focus on. 'Control's jes a bit abstract, innit?"

"This would be less disturbing if it wasn't Ishida's son's body talking like a hoodlum," Ichigo's father commented in the background, just loud enough for Shiro to hear.

He absently flipped his Aibo's father off, as he puzzled through what needed to be done. Uryuu wasn't helping much, but Shiro was getting the feeling that Uryuu really didn't _know_ what he had done, which meant it was more of an instinctual thing.

"So cruel! Not one fragment of my son respects his father!" came Goat-face's melodramatic wail.

( _*Man-child,*_ ) Uryuu grumbled, before returning to the task at hand. ( _*I just_ _… I needed to free up my reach, and Lichtregen takes a lot of focus to form still, so…*_ )

Shiro glowered at the wall, mentally picking apart what Uryuu was and wasn't saying. How did one _share_ control, instead of just _taking_ control, he wondered.

That was it, Shiro realized suddenly, as he straightened up and bounced the daito on his shoulder thoughtfully. _Sharing_ wasn't really any different from _taking_ , it was just… halved. Half-taking, half-giving.

With a toothy grin, Shiro mentally reached for Koneko and _pulled_ the other forward, as if he was going to push his landlord into control, but stopped short of it.

Abruptly, his vision blurred and dimmed, his limbs felt leaden and distant, as the two of them instinctively battled for dominance.

"Fuck," Shiro cursed, as he tried to both remain in control and standing. He felt his hold on the bankai form waver, and was certain for a moment that it would drop, but Uryuu seemed to sense that problem at the same time.

( _*Too much,*_ ) Uryuu agreed, as he retreated slowly until Shiro was once more in solid control of their shared body.

"Well?" Shiro asked, as he shifted about a bit, trying to accustom himself to the strange, ill-fitting feeling that was still bothering him. It didn't seem to affect his control of their body, he determined, as he practiced a few quick slashes with his sword, but he could sense part of his reiatsu not bending to his will. "See if y'can do yer magic, Koneko. This's uncomfortable as fuck."

He felt Uryuu's wordless agreement, as the teen reached through the reiatsu that no longer responded to Shiro's control and wove a ransoutengai about his arms. It was all Shiro could do to remain passive, as his arm just _moved without his permission_ , feeling like it was being dragged through molasses in the process.

"Fuck that's fuckin' creepy as fuck," Shiro spat out, as he tamped down his flaring reiatsu as much as possible. He could feel how his reiatsu was fighting against Uryuu's technique, and even if he somewhat agreed with the way his reiatsu was acting, it would see them dead if they fought Aizen like this. "Ya gunna go all Sasori on us?"

( _*Ransoutengai works on the self, not external objects,*_ ) Uryuu replied.

"Tch, shame," Shiro replied, dreams of stealing Koneko's skill and puppeting random things about dying a swift death. His vision abruptly dimmed, as he felt Uryuu lunging for more control in an attempt to keep the skill active. The short, vicious fight between their reiatsu shattered the delicate technique, and made Shiro wince as the two of them fought to regain their balance. "Stop grabbin' at control like 'at! Fuck, this is gunna take ferever t'get right!"

( _*Well maybe if you weren_ _'t trying to buck my control every second!*_ )

"Oh fuck this noise," Shiro grumbled. "Aibo, yer fuckin' up, I quit!"

With that, Shiro shoved Uryuu back fully into their mindscape, dragged Ichigo into control, and retreated before either of the two realized exactly what had happened. Sharing was frustrating as fuck, and Shiro was certain he wanted nothing to do with it.

* * *

Ichigo stumbled, trying to orient himself to the outside world in the face of such an abrupt switch. He'd been watching the way the two had interacted, and had been unprepared to be suddenly thrust into the real world.

"Thought he'd last a bit longer than that," Ichigo muttered aloud, as he caught his balance and waited to see if the bankai that Shiro had summoned would drop. When it didn't, Ichigo turned his attention partially inward, (*Ready to try again?*)

( _*Yes,*_ ) Uryuu replied, radiating annoyance and a hint of anger that Ichigo dearly hoped was aimed at his inner Hollow and not himself.

Ichigo took a deep breath, calming himself as much as he could, and reached for his friend's mental presence. A few delicate tugs had Uryuu settled in that awkward midway point that Uryuu and Shiro had managed, where Uryuu was in control enough to use his technique, but not enough to start claiming physical control.

He could tell instantly that they would have the same problem as before. No matter how calm he attempted to keep himself, Uryuu's skill woven through him felt _wrong_ , and Ichigo had to continually fight against his instinctive reaction in order to let the other move their shared body around even the smallest amount.

( _*Practice will likely help,*_ ) Uryuu tentatively offered, as he cast ransoutengai over their shared body once again.

Ichigo frowned, frustration mounting as he fought to keep his reiatsu from shattering the technique once more. (*Yeah, I get that, but…*)

( _*We_ _'re already starting to hold it longer,*_ ) Uryuu replied, as he carefully guided their arms. ( _*Let_ _'s just… we've got at least two months, right? So, let's just… work on getting used to this. We can worry about speed and everything else later.*_ )

(*I just can't keep my reiatsu in check!*) Ichigo snarled back, as his reiatsu spiked again and shattered Uryuu's control.

Uryuu's determination was all that kept Ichigo from throwing up his arms and declaring the whole plan useless. Instead, he tamped down on his mounting frustration again and resigned himself to hours of uncomfortable and disorienting practice.

He soon lost track of the number of times one or both of them shattered the ransoutengai, but took what little encouragement he could from the fact that they were managing to last just a little bit longer each time.

( _*Think you can switch to my bow?*_ ) Uryuu asked, after they had finally managed to last more than three minutes of careful control.

Ichigo grunted, narrowed his eyes at the daito in their right hand, and tried to force it to switch. His reiatsu spiked, shattering the ransoutengai again, and the daito barely flickered.

(*Give me a bit,*) Ichigo said, as he focused everything he had on the weapon, and tried to remember what Uryuu's bow felt like. It felt like he was slogging through a marsh, as he slowly forced the daito to change shape. When it finally took form in his hand, Ichigo had to stop and stare.

 _That_ wasn't what Uryuu's bow looked like!

( _*A result of you changing it, or a result of bankai?*_ ) Uryuu asked curiously, as he examined the bow.

It was a plain thing, compared to the compass rose design, just a simple bow with two forward facing spikes framing the grip and an almost absurd amount of curve to the limbs. It would, Ichigo was sure, resemble a 'w' if he held the bow horizontally, instead of the simple 'c' that Uryuu's previous bows had.

(*I'm not sure,*) Ichigo admitted, as he held the bow awkwardly. The grip felt completely wrong, the balance awkward, and the pure green color off-putting. (*But green is you, right? So it's probably not my fault.*)

( _*So even my bow changes in bankai? That_ _'s…*_ )

Ichigo couldn't help but feel a flash of amusement at his friend's irked tone, before he smothered it. He would rather not get on Uryuu's bad side this early in their partnership, after all, no matter how amusing the other's incoherent grumbling actually was.

(*Is this an actual type of bow?*) Ichigo asked, in an attempt to draw Uryuu out of his funk and get the other focused on training again.

( _*Yes. It_ _'s called a reflex bow. In real ones, the shape makes them much harder to draw than normal, but helps impart a higher speed and thus a greater hitting power than other bow types of comparative size.*_ )

Ichigo turned that over in his mind for a few seconds, then nodded once. (*Makes sense. My bankai is dedicated to speed. So a bow type also dedicated to speed would fit.*)

( _*I_ _… yes, that makes sense. Ready to continue?*_ )

Ichigo settled his reiatsu as much as he could, then sent a wordless acceptance to his friend. The ransoutengai quickly settled over their limbs, and Ichigo struggled to keep himself relaxed as Uryuu adjusted his grip on the bow and raised it. A mental nudge had Ichigo shifting his gaze, as Uryuu called forth an arrow and took aim at the wall a ways down the path.

The arrow traveled almost too quickly for Ichigo to follow, though instead of hitting the wall it shattered against the floor of the dangai, completely missing the point Uryuu had been aiming at.

( _*Well, it is a faster shot,*_ ) Uryuu offered up, though Ichigo could feel the other's frustration mounting at the failed shot.

(*We'll get better,*) Ichigo asserted. (*Try again.*)

But even he couldn't hold to his optimism in the face of their constant struggle to maintain a balance and reliably target something. Shot after shot Uryuu fired, with only a handful nearing the target that Uryuu had mentally marked out. It didn't help that they had to stop to reweave the technique after nearly every shot, their reiatsu thrown into chaos by the forming and releasing of each arrow.

Finally, they had to admit temporary defeat. Both of them could feel the growing strain on Uryuu's body thanks to bankai, and so Ichigo dismissed it with a thought. Instantly, the bow in his hand reverted to the compass rose design of previous, which rather handily answered their question about the cause.

He could also feel the difference in his reiatsu, after spending so much time focused on it. Outside of bankai, it felt calmer, even though Uryuu was still poised in that uncomfortable halfway position that let him work through Ichigo.

Before he could suggest they attempt to work with that, just to get accustomed to the feeling and to Uryuu practicing through him, Uryuu retreated.

( _*Later,*_ ) Uryuu promised, his mental voice drawn and tired. ( _*It_ _'s not just my body that's tired. I think… some of the problem during the last few tries was my exhaustion. I could feel my control slipping through my fingers.*_ )

(*Then rest,*) Ichigo replied, as he felt Uryuu's mental presence dim, until he could only sense that the other was there, nothing else. (*Old Man?*)

( _*He_ _'s already asleep.*_ )

With a sigh, Ichigo returned to his father and sat back down on the ground, setting the bow down at his side. Exhaustion hit him as he relaxed his focus, the combined mental strain of trying to balance their reiatsu and the physical strain of holding bankai in a new body.

"Soooo… mind explaining?"

Ichigo shrugged, then covered a yawn with a hand. "We're trying to figure out how to take down Aizen. Apparently, Uryuu can turn a Getsuga Tenshou into an arrow, so we think that maybe doing that in bankai will be enough to hurt that bastard."

His father arched an eyebrow, then glanced at the pockmarked wall that Ichigo had been aiming at. "An archer you are not, son."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "I know, damnit! Uryuu's made _that_ perfectly clear. No, we're trying to… share control, I guess. 'Cause he can't go bankai on his own, and fuck me or Shiro landing an arrow anywhere near Aizen, even if he stood still and let us aim."

"You can do that?" His father asked, puzzlement clear in his voice. "Share control, I mean."

"It's not really… it's…" Ichigo grunted, waving a hand in the air as he tried to put it into words. "It's not _physical_ control. Shiro did that on accident and _damn_ but that was disorienting. It's reiatsu control, I guess? So that Uryuu can do that spooky puppetry technique of his."

"But clearly that's not working," his father replied. The man gained a thoughtful look, as he cast his gaze from Ichigo to the wall and back. "What's happening?"

"We're fighting each other subconsciously, I think," Ichigo admitted, as he thought over the constant balancing act they had to perform. "Any time he tries to do something, my reiatsu flares, and then we have to find our balance again. Or his reiatsu spikes, and knocks us off. Or both of us at the same time. It's… we just can't find a stable balance point to work from, so any move either of us makes disturbs the other."

"Have you thought about asking one of the others in there to help regulate the two of you?"

Ichigo blinked, then shook his head, "We haven't. I don't think Shiro would really help any—"

"What about _your_ blade then, Zangetsu?" Isshin asked. "He'd be used to dealing with your reiatsu, and maybe that would give him the edge needed to keep the two of you in balance."

Ichigo felt himself still, as the truth of his father's words became obvious. Why had he not even considered asking the Old Man? Hesitantly, he reached inward, searching for the Old Man, hoping that the other wasn't angered by being overlooked. (*Zangetsu? Would you be willing to help us with that?*)

( _*I would,*_ ) came the calm reply. ( _*I was merely waiting to see if either of you would ask it of me. It will not solve_ _ **all**_ _your problems, and I would not agree if you truly had the time to learn this skill on your own, but I will assist you in this.*_ )

Ichigo released a relieved breath, and gave his father a look of appreciation, "Thanks, dad. Zangetsu agreed."

His father beamed back at him, though somehow refrained from a typical dramatic response. "That's what our swords are there for, you know. When it comes down to the wire, they want to help us stay alive, and will do all in their power to help us if we ask correctly."

Ichigo nodded slowly as he thought about that. He glanced down at his hands, at _Uryuu_ _'s_ hands, so different from his own it was disorienting to see. He was sharply aware of Uryuu's presence — a weary weight in the back of his mind, exhausted and worn thin by recent events — in a way he'd never been aware of Shiro or the Old Man. Was it because he was just another spirit now? Part of Uryuu in the same way the two had once been just a part of him?

Either way, the sense of what his father was saying, of zanpakutou wanting to keep their partners alive… well, it seemed so _obvious_ when stated like that. All the times Shiro had kept him from dying, all the pointed advice from the Old Man, even Shiro's constant fighting, constant heckling to 'grow stronger or else', made sense in that context.

"I guess I can see that," Ichigo finally admitted, as he looked up from Uryuu's hands and fixed his father with a determined look. "Zanpakutou or not, I won't let Uryuu die."

The forced, too large smile on his father's face at his words made Ichigo look away, regret curling tightly around his heart. His helplessness in the face of his father's looming breakdown clawed at him, a monster of ( _rage-hate-guilt-fury-despair_ ) that sank its talons deeper every second he had to face the man.

Ichigo settled into the meditative posture he'd seen Uryuu take in the mindscape, and quickly retreated inward, releasing control of Uryuu's body as he did.

Zangetsu's hand gripped his shoulder as soon as he reappeared, and he shot the other a questioning look.

"You're beginning to understand," was all the man said, before he settled back against the wall and resumed watching over Uryuu's sleeping form.

Ichigo made a face, unsure how to take that, torn between acceptance of the new order of things, and the monster that continued to burrow deeper. Making a decision, he turned abruptly and stalked off, leaving the exhausted Quincy to his protected rest.

A fight with Shiro would help him sort it all out, he was certain.

* * *

When Uryuu finally woke, it was to the distant crash of someone being thrown through yet _another_ window, and to the sense of a presence nearby.

He really wasn't surprised when he spotted Zangetsu leaning against the wall, right where the other had stationed himself when Uryuu had first stumbled back into the mindscape. The sword spirit was a dedicated sort, Uryuu was discovering, reliable like Ichigo, but much more down to earth.

"Do they ever quit?" Uryuu asked, as he slowly pushed himself up and tried without success to put his hair in order.

Zangetsu shook his head, a faint smile pulling at his lips. "No. It's how they come to understand each other, and let off steam."

Uryuu sighed at that. He hadn't really expected otherwise — reliable Ichigo might be, but he was also _very_ battle-mad — and he supposed it was better than any other alternative he could think of. Ichigo taking his urge to fight out on one of his spirits certainly beat being challenged to combat every day.

"While you were resting," Zangetsu continued, breaking Uryuu out of his train of thought, "Ichigo has asked my assistance in balancing your competing reiatsu."

"Will that really help?" Uryuu couldn't help but ask. "Adding a third person to this plan doesn't seem like it would simplify matters much."

"Ichigo must focus on maintaining bankai and combat, while you must focus on controlling your skill and aiming. In the mean time, both of your reiatsu are competing for control of a single body," Zangetsu reminded Uryuu gently. "While you might have been able to balance all of that in your previous form, Ichigo's reiatsu is too wild, and yours too newly large, for such instinctive control. In time you will regain that strength, and my assistance would be unnecessary, but we do not currently have time to perfect such instinctive control as is required."

Uryuu could do nothing but nod mutely at the bare facts. It was true that Ichigo's bucking reiatsu hadn't been the only problem while they were experimenting; his own, so much larger than he had ever before experienced, had frequently slipped his control and tried to overwhelm Ichigo's.

"As such, I will act merely as a balancer, helping the two of you maintain the stability you do not yet have the experience to reach on your own. If the need wasn't so dire…"

"You wouldn't help," Uryuu finished. "You… don't do that much, do you?"

Zangetsu smiled faintly at Uryuu and inclined his head. "I find that advice and an attentive ear tends to solve many of your difficulties by themselves. You and Ichigo are both intelligent young men, needing only the occasional nudge or hint towards an answer."

"Thank you," Uryuu said softly, before he rose from the bed and took stock of himself. The rest had restored him more than he thought possible, and he felt, if not optimistic, than at least more assured in their future success. It was time to find Ichigo and resume practice.

He hesitated at the door to the room, though, and decided to ask a question. After all, the worst Zangetsu could do was refuse to answer. "Ichigo is the better option for this plan, isn't he? I noticed when I was trying with Shiro, before he quit, that his reiatsu is… rougher. It was like trying to work around a briar."

"Allowing someone else to control you is an exercise in trust," Zangetsu replied.

"And Shiro… no, neither of us really trusts the other yet," Uryuu finished. It did make sense. He had known and fought alongside Ichigo for months at this point, and only recently come to know Shiro and even Zangetsu himself. "Will that be a problem?"

Zangetsu shook his head. "I am merely gentling both of your reiatsu, not attempting to layer my own control over anyone."

Uryuu nodded once more, and left the room. It took him a moment to orient himself towards the distant sound of combat, once he determined that Shiro and Ichigo weren't fighting within the tower he was currently in. He bounded through a destroyed window and out into the corridor, then eyed the handful of towers in the direction of the sounds of combat, trying to determine which one the two were fighting in.

Not that he had to guess long. Ichigo flew backwards out of a hole in one of them, followed by a cackling Shiro. The two stood in midair, swords flashing as the darted and struck, both of them in their 'new' bankai form.

"Oh! Hey, Uryuu!" Ichigo shouted, as he shoved Shiro away and flash stepped over to Uryuu. "Feeling better?"

Uryuu nodded, shot Shiro a dark look that had the other pouting and reluctantly settling his sword back over his back, and gave his friend a once over. Ichigo didn't look the worse for wear from their efforts at practice, nor did he seemed bothered by the lines of blood Shiro had drawn in their combat.

"Zangetsu informed me of your request."

"Ahah, yeah, sorry I went over your head," Ichigo answered sheepishly. "Goat-face suggested asking him, because he's used to handling my reiatsu already."

"Get your head out of your ass, Kurosaki," Uryuu snarked back. "Do you really think we have a chance without someone else keeping us from shoving the other aside?"

"Well, in time…"

Uryuu arched an eyebrow, to which Ichigo merely snorted and shrugged, giving in the inevitable and accepting that no, they really didn't have the time to learn how to do it themselves.

"Up for trying again?" Ichigo finally asked.

Uryuu nodded, then braced himself for continued frustration and failure as Ichigo vanished from the mindscape.

* * *

Ichigo reached out, seizing control of Uryuu's body once more, and stumbled to his feet. He had to spend a moment rubbing the cramps from his legs, and used that time to discretely glance at his father. The man was either sleeping or meditating, Ichigo determined, as he watched his father's steady breaths and closed eyes.

It was disturbing to see his father like that, strung up almost like a prisoner and so very, very _still_. At home, the old goat was constantly in motion, larger than life and easily filling every inch of space with his presence. Like this, he looked… _small_.

Ichigo clenched his jaw and looked away. Held his blade to the side, called up his strength. "Bankai! Enshroud the world in a moonless night, Kakure Ichigo!"

( _*It comes to mind,*_ ) Uryuu spoke, breaking the silence that had settled over them and pulling Ichigo away from thoughts of his father, ( _*That this practice is also useful to lengthen the time I can stay like this.*_ )

Ichigo nodded, (*I hope we can end Aizen quickly, but… more time is always useful.*)

It still took time for Ichigo to remember how to shift the sword into a bow, but it did come a bit swifter to his call. There was, at least, no flickering between forms this time, and when the grip of the bow settled in his hand it was as solid and stable as the sword had been.

He doubted he would ever be proficient in changing forms the same way Uryuu was, but he didn't need to be. He just needed to be skilled enough to comfortably switch forms and hold the bow in place.

Gathering his resolve, he took that mental side-step that had become familiar during their previous attempts, inviting Uryuu forward. And with his friend came Old Man Zangetsu.

Immediately, he could tell the difference. His reiatsu spiked as soon as Uryuu began to weave the ransoutengai, and just as swiftly was gentled down by Zangetsu. It felt… odd. Like how the instructors at the dojo would correct his stance when he was a child.

( _*Trust in each other, and know that I will be the land upon which you stand.*_ )

Ichigo swallowed back his unease at the way his arms rose on their own, drawing back on the bow as an arrow flickered into existence; at the way his head tilted slightly so Uryuu could see better; at the way his fingers flickered open to release the arrow into flight.

But he couldn't ignore the way the arrow shattered against the wall, right in the middle of all the scattered pockmarks the other attempts had left. Nor could he ignore the way Uryuu calmly drew back the bow a second time, not having to take the time to weave the ransoutengai over him again. Two arrows appeared this time, another surge of gentled reiatsu that left the two of them shaken but still in balance, and when they landed it was so close to the first that they left no mark other than a deepened pockmark in the wall.

Encouraged by this success, Ichigo let himself relax slightly, shifting their position around as Uryuu directed, and just… let his friend shoot through him. It still wasn't perfect — sometimes even Zangetsu couldn't completely gentle their reiatsu, and they had to start all over again — but it was better than before.

Reminded of his spirit's words, Ichigo took the opportunity to observe what the Old Man was actually doing. If they ever had to pull off something crazy like this again, there was no guarantee the other would allow them to use him as a crutch again. In fact, Ichigo was certain Zangetsu would never allow them to use him like this again, barring an emergency as great as this following swiftly in this one's footsteps.

It wasn't like there was much else for him to do, anyway. Standing around holding bankai and letting his friend manipulate their shared body was, though exceedingly unnerving, pretty boring once he managed to swallow back the creepy at seeing his limbs moving without conscious direction.

Who knew when such control might be beneficial, Ichigo mused, as he tried to modulate his reiatsu the same way Zangetsu was. A trump card that no one would expect. And if there was anything his mess had taught him, it was that having such cards up your sleeve was for the best.

He'd sworn to keep Uryuu alive, and he meant to keep that promise.

* * *

A bit of an intermediate chapter, all things being equal, but an important one.

Til next time, ja ne!


	8. Time Turned Back

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and those people/companies that publish Bleach. I own nothing except my meagre attempts at playing in his sandbox.

Warnings: Pretty much everybody's mouth, described violence (it IS Bleach, after all), mostly canon up to the fight with Butterfly-Aizen then kiss canon goodbye. Also unbetaed

Yay, timetravel!

( _Everything's green_ ) - Subconscious flow of thoughts  
( _*Why is everything green?*_ ) - Uryuu actively thinking  
(*Because it is.*) - Ichigo actively thinking  
( ***Who th'hell cares?!*** ) - Shiro actively thinking  
( _*Peace, hollow.*_ ) - Old Man Zangetsu actively thinking

* * *

Ichigo sighed in relief as Uryuu allowed the puppetry technique to dissipate, freeing him from his friend's will at last. He'd grown accustomed to the sensation of being not quite in control, but 'accustomed' was a long stretch from 'enjoyed'. It still left him feeling like ants were creeping down his spine, to watch the body he was inhabiting move under a will not his own.

Uryuu retreated inward, leaving Ichigo as the sole controller of their body, and Ichigo turned away from the scarred and blackened wall they had been using for target practice. He took the three steps back to his father, frowning at the exhausted visage he was presented with.

His father had spent much of the time either asleep or meditating — Ichigo could never decide which — but even with all that, it was clear their time in this place was drawing to an end. The technique his father had used to freeze the current hadn't faltered yet, but the lines carved deeply into his old man's face were more telling than anything else. He'd never seen the man look so drawn, not even in the face of emergencies where he had been called into the hospital to lend his aid to the doctors there.

As if sensing his regard, his father cracked an eye open and gave Ichigo a wan smile. "Done training for now?"

Ichigo nodded, then shot a look at the wall they'd been using for a target. "I think… I think we've done everything we can in here. Our control is smoother, Uryuu is certain he's gotten the hang of shooting through me, and I can hold bankai in his body for hours now. We've got a plan that looks like it could possibly work, so now… I guess we just have to try it and see."

His father observed him for a long moment in silence, then gave him another smile. "I'm proud of you, Ichigo."

Ichigo just grunted and looked away, unwilling to show his father how much those honest words meant to him.

"Alright then," his father spoke again, breaking the silence that had settled between them. "I want both of you to rest up for a few hours. I've got at least that much longer before my reiatsu gives out, so there's no point in going back out there tired."

Ichigo gave his father a concerned look, then reluctantly settled into the meditation pose that had started to become second nature after all the times he had fallen into it during their training. Giving up control of Uryuu's body was just as easy as always.

He was almost surprised to see Uryuu still awake and sitting atop the bed, blade resting atop his legs. Usually the careful balancing act required to share control wore on Uryuu so much that his friend was almost immediately asleep as soon as he retreated.

"It's soon, isn't it?" Uryuu asked, turning his attention from the dao in his lap to Ichigo.

Ichigo nodded. "Goat-face suggests we rest for a few hours."

Uryuu splayed the fingers of his left hand over the blade, absently tracing the back with his thumb. "Who should start in control?"

Ichigo frowned down at his friend, and spoke firmly, "You. I will help you fight, and back you up when you falter, but this is _your_ body, and I refuse to take that from you. I know what its like to lose control, and I never want to force you into that position if I can help it."

Uryuu's gaze was sharp, as he scanned Ichigo's face. Ichigo wasn't sure what the other was looking for, but apparently he found it, because eventually his friend nodded.

"I understand," Uryuu said. "Let's destroy Aizen together."

Ichigo smirked at Uryuu, then waved a hand as he turned to leave the room Uryuu had claimed. "Yeah, he'll never know what hit him. Get some rest, Uryuu, we've got an idiot to knock off his pedestal."

* * *

Uryuu woke to the real world, and to a hand shaking his shoulder.

"Up an' at 'em!" Kurosaki-sensei's cheerful voice broke through the last of the sleep-fog.

He blinked up at Ichigo's father, trying to understand exactly how the man could look like death warmed over and still sound so chipper.

(*It's one of those things I never think about too hard,*) Ichigo said. (*He's a goof and an idiot almost all the time. When he's acting serious, people are usually pretty badly injured.*)

Uryuu had to wonder if Kurosaki-sensei wasn't acting like that in an attempt to cheer people up, both himself and his family, but gave the wondering up as a bad job. He pushed himself to his feet carefully, flexing his muscles as he rose to loosen them, then turned towards the direction they had been running before this unscheduled stop.

Only to see Ichigo's father take a few wavering steps, before his legs gave out and he fell back to the ground.

"Enough," Uryuu said, as he moved to Kurosaki-sensei's side and prevented the man from attempting to rise again. He carefully reinforced his body and scooped the other up. "We don't have time, and Ichigo would kill me if I left you behind."

"Aww, you _do_ care about your father, Ichigo!" Isshin exclaimed, only to yelp when Uryuu pretended to drop the man.

"You're making me reconsider," Uryuu growled, as he further reinforced his body and started running towards the exit. "Either shut up, or I'll knock you unconscious."

The rest of the trip passed in blessed silence, though a glance at Kurosaki-sensei's face explained at least part of that. The man had clearly passed out at some point, too drained by the effort to give them as much time as possible.

When the exit came into sight, Uryuu took a deep breath, before flooding his body with as much reinforcement as it would accept and racing through it. This was it.

Hopefully, their training would not be in vain.

Information flooded his senses as soon as he left the dangai: Ichigo's sisters, alive and well; Gin and another Shinigami, dying; Ichigo's friends, terrified out of their wits; _Aizen_ _…_

Uryuu set his jaw and used a burst of hirenkyaku to reach Ichigo's friends, taking in the scene as soon as he appeared.

(*What the fuck..?*)

Uryuu couldn't help but agree with the sentiment; maybe Aizen had taken the 'chrysalis stage' idea a bit too literally? That was the only reason Uryuu could come up with for why the man currently had _butterfly wings_.

"I-ishida-san?"

Uryuu glanced at Arisawa, then at the collection of other teenagers that spent time with Ichigo, and inclined his head slightly. Unceremoniously, he dropped Ichigo's father down next to the group, then moved to put some space between him and the others.

He could feel Aizen's reiatsu pressing down upon him, but his limbs remained steady under the weight. Uryuu squared his shoulders and glared at the megalomaniac, calling forth his bow and standing ready.

"My, my, this again?" Aizen asked, then tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as he stared at Uryuu. "But it seems I underestimated the lengths to which you would both go… didn't I, Kurosaki Ichigo?"

"My name is _Ishida Uryuu_ ," he bit out. "And it will be by my hand that you die, Aizen!"

Aizen threw back his head and laughed. His reiatsu swirled about him, erasing bits of the rubble upon which he was standing, and making the group of humans back off further. Uryuu was pleased to see that Asano and Arisawa had grabbed Kurosaki-sensei and dragged him further away as well.

On his part, though, he faced the swirling reiatsu, acclimatizing himself to the weight. He knew, if he attempted to strike now, that he would achieve nothing. The weight was still too much; he could stand under it, move through it, but it still felt like he was wading through water. But every second that Aizen gave him, every moment he had to grow used to it, was a further chance of victory down the line.

"Look at you, brave little ryoka," Aizen spoke, his laughter finally dying away. "You didn't just take his skills, you took his very _soul_ , didn't you? I can feel him there, inside you, just as I can feel that the two of you together are still no match for my strength!"

"Then we'll just have to prove you wrong!"

Aizen gave him a dark, predatory grin. "You will, will you? Well then… why don't we test that!"

Before Uryuu could react, Aizen lunged forward, grabbing the front of his coat and hurling him out of the town.

Hissing in surprise, Uryuu flipped himself upright and slid to a halt, standing in the sky far from Karakura. As he tried to reorient himself, Aizen appeared before him, wings spread and fluttering gently.

"I feel this demonstration should be private. I have seen your style of fighting, and I have no desire to accidentally render the town worthless in my quest to create the Oken, just because of one slippery child." Aizen proclaimed, as he drew his blade and beckoned with his free hand. "Come! If you and Kurosaki together are the Hope of Seireitei, then I will crush you and display your broken body before those pitiful fools, right before I devour them!"

Uryuu refused to pull any punches. He had to know, immediately, if he had a chance of winning without bankai. He raised his bow, a rippling shaft of green-edged black reiatsu forming in place of his normal arrow. A Getsuga Tenshou, reforged and empowered by everything he had to give it.

"Getsuga Tenshou!" Uryuu growled, as he released the attack and darted to the side, already forming and releasing a second. The two arrows raced through the sky, hitting Aizen in quick succession.

"Fascinating," Aizen mused, as he stepped towards Uryuu, his reiatsu dispersing the trails of smoke that rose from the two impacts. "I see you used the time I gave you well. Though something as pitiful as that has no hope of taking me down."

The man spread his arms, showing Uryuu his undamaged body. "Look upon the power of your new King, and despair!"

( _*Ichigo.*_ )

(*Right.*)

Uryuu relinquished control.

* * *

Ichigo surged to the fore before Aizen could even blink. He didn't bother allowing Uryuu's bow to dissolve into his sword, but rather bared his teeth at the monster and called out, "Bankai! Enshroud the world in a moonless night, Kakure Ichigo!"

As the power rose around them, Ichigo took that mental side-step, inviting Uryuu forward. They settled, together, as Uryuu wove his ransoutengai loosely about their body's limbs and drew back their bow, a black arrow flashing into existence and coursing through the air.

Ichigo snarled, as he darted under Aizen's retaliatory strike. Bow became sword, colliding with a ringing _clang_ against Aizen's own blade. The ransoutengai supported his arms, giving no direction but adding strength. Blood dripped down Aizen's torso, the man's left shoulder torn and blackened from the arrow. Teeth bared in a feral smile, Ichigo kicked Aizen away.

"Where's all that vaunted power now?" Ichigo asked, as he darted after Aizen.

Sword to bow. Uryuu pulled the strings tighter. Another Getsuga Tenshou arrow, straight into Aizen's torso. The man twisted aside at the last minute, arrow ripping through his side instead of straight into his gut. A spatter of blood: dust and decay and chemical inhumanity.

"I will admit to some surprise," Aizen said, as he struck again, sword singing as it clove the air. "You work so well together, one might even think you had hope to defeat me!"

"We will defeat you!" Ichigo roared back, as he lashed out with his free hand and grabbed Aizen's sword. Uryuu's reiatsu flared and hardened. A trickle of blood ran down their palm, the drops shed before Uryuu had defended properly. He sneered in Aizen's face, enjoying the man's dumbfounded expression, then thrust their sword forward.

Aizen wrenched his sword free, scattering droplets of blood as he flicked it. Rage crept across the man's face, as he launched himself forward.

Ichigo ducked. Lashed out. Cursed as Aizen moved aside and nailed them in the side with a kick. It sent them flying straight into the ground, cratering the earth and sending up a plume of dust.

Distantly, he could feel Uryuu's strain, could feel the pulse of lingering reiatsu that had kept them safe from more than bruises.

Ichigo lost himself in the fight. Lost himself in the give and take of a struggle for their very lives. He could feel Uryuu lurking in the background, could feel the way his friend manipulated their reiatsu to withstand Aizen's blows, to support their arms against the man's strength.

The land fractured around them, crumbling under the weight of two ever-rising reiatsu signatures. His normal Getsuga Tenshou scored deep into the already destroyed landscape, tearing trenches whenever he launched it.

Every moment he had, Ichigo forced their sword back into a bow, for Uryuu to launch a black arrow at Aizen. More missed than hit, for Aizen was wary of the arrows now, adding deep craters to the landscape.

It was wearing on the man, they could tell. Their tag-teaming was coming smoother, the bow forming more readily to Ichigo's will, Zangetsu needing to step in less and less. They fought as one, their wills in sync, and that gave them an advantage over Aizen.

( _*The Ginto,*_ ) Uryuu murmured, as he hardened their reiatsu to resist another of Aizen's strikes.

Ichigo grunted in acknowledgment and reached back with his free hand to pull one of the tubes from Uryuu's belt. He didn't do anything with it, not yet, merely held it ready as he felt Uryuu feeding a trickle of their power into it in preparation for its use.

"Your foolish defiance will end here!" Aizen proclaimed, as he retreated momentarily and raised a hand to the sky. "All your strength is worthless against kidou!"

"Seeping crest of turbidity. Arrogant vessel of lunacy! Boil forth and deny!"

Ichigo growled as Aizen began to chant, shifting their dao into the bow, and began the motions he was already growing familiar with, Uryuu's will guiding their body. The Ginto erupted into black light in their hand, and he felt muscles strain as Uryuu pulled his bow to a full draw.

"Grow numb and flicker! Disrupt sleep! Crawling queen of iron! Eternally self-destructing doll of mud!"

The Ginto-empowered Getsuga Tenshou arrow lanced forth, leaving a slash of pitch black in its wake.

"Unite! Repulse!"

Aizen's eyes widened in shock, as the arrow pierced his right pectoral. The breath stuttered in his throat, blood creeping down from the corner of his mouth, and the power gathered around his hand flickered, once, twice…

He managed to choke out the last of the incantation, a triumphant gleam in his inhuman eyes. "F-fill with s-soil an-and know your own powerl-lessn-ness! H-hado nin-nety, K-kurohi-hitsugi!"

"Shit!" Ichigo cursed, as huge black boxes topped with leaning spears began to multiply around them. He remembered this Hado, remembered how Komamura fell to it on the hill, and did _not_ want to be on the receiving end of a full-power version.

Frantic, he glanced around, searching for an escape and finding none.

( _*Ichigo!*_ ) Uryuu's sharp voice cut through his panic, even as Ichigo felt a hand close around another Ginto tube. It snapped to life as Uryuu forced it open, shedding bright green light over the darkening world. ( _*Ginto sever the bonds of reiatsu!*_ )

"Right!" Ichigo slung the bow over their back as if it was his sword, and switched the Ginto to their right hand. They had no time for finesse, not when the space remaining around them was growing smaller with every second.

He lashed out, pouring everything he had into cutting a path to freedom. Uryuu's reiatsu rose in time with his own, even Zangetsu abandoned his neutral stance to lend his aid. Walls shattered and spears broke, as the world continued to darken around them until the green glow of the Ginto was the only light remaining.

Ichigo panted, as he drove their shared body to its limit. He could feel the Ginto dragging through the construct, shattering pieces haphazardly as it passed, destabilizing it more and more. Around him the kidou shuddered, wavering dangerously on the verge of collapse, and Ichigo could only hope that it wouldn't implode and kill them.

A final fluctuation and Ichigo could _feel_ it beginning to collapse inward, could _feel_ the suddenly rising pressure all around them. He cursed a final time, knowing that their luck had run out, but unwilling to give up, to give in to the death he could feel looming.

He'd already died once.

He'd sworn not to let Uryuu die.

He. Was not. _Weak!_

Ichigo roared in fury, grasping at every last strand of power he had available and feeding it into the Ginto. Uryuu mirrored him, pushing their strength higher, and Zangetsu grasped both in firm hands, spinning them together and compressing it all into one last. Desperate. _**Strike!**_

The Ginto flared white. Cracks raced through the black walls. Cracks that grew and multiplied until it felt like the entire _world_ shattered into a million fragments all around them. Power, freed of direction, lashed out, lightning unchained. A bolt ripped through Ichigo, shattered Zangetsu's control and sent Uryuu into unconsciousness before Ichigo could even register the _agony_ of their physical body.

Ichigo struggled to remain awake, even as his vision dimmed and his limbs trembled. The Ginto fell from nerveless fingers, falling soundlessly into the plush grass beneath his feet.

(*Grass..?*)

And then Ichigo knew no more.

* * *

Shiro cursed up a storm, as he watched first Zangetsu, then Uryuu, and finally Ichigo appear in their shared mindscape. Zangetsu's coat was smoking, and Shiro could see the blackened flesh of the Old Man's hands even from where he stood. Uryuu didn't seem much better off, and didn't move even when Shiro prodded at his new landlord with a foot.

He didn't even bother checking Ichigo. He could tell the instant his Aibo appeared that he was unconscious just like the other two.

"Do I fuckin' gotta do _everything_ 'ere?!" Shiro shouted at the unresponsive spirits, frustration welling up in him. He didn't want to _die_ , he _refused to die_ , and if the other fragments of the whole wouldn't _wake up and deal with,_ then he would just do it himself!

He forced himself to the fore, taking stock of the damage dealt to Uryuu's body as he did. Not much stood out to him over the haze of _ache_ and _agony_ , and nothing struck him as life threatening, so Shiro forced open heavy eyelids and pushed himself to his feet.

Except, when he looked around, he found no sign of Aizen anywhere. In fact, he found no sign of the battle having ever occurred. The grass was pristine beneath his feet, the land unmarked by the arrows he _knew_ had missed, along with Aibo's other attacks. Mountains rose to his right, and a forest stretched who knew how far to his left, and none of it held _any_ sign of combat.

"Th'fuck?" Shiro whispered, as he allowed his defensive stance to fall. He was pleased not to have to jump right into combat; Uryuu's body had reverted to normal, their bankai having fallen when Ichigo fell unconscious, and Shiro was unsure if he could regain that form. Not with the way he was feeling.

But it left him off balance, confused in a way he truly hated being. Shiro frowned darkly at the pristine land around him, then stretched his senses out as far as they could go, searching for the bastard Ichigo and Uryuu had been fighting. He found… nothing.

Not even the echo of Karakura's mingle reiatsu signatures. It was as if the town had never been transported to Soul Society, as if everything Shiro was certain he _knew_ was _wrong._ He had no idea what Aizen had always been rambling on about, but surely destroying the town would have left _something_ behind to sense?

So he reached further, pushing his personal reiatsu as far as he could, and brushed against a… strangely calm Seireitei?

Shiro froze, as he shifted to stare off into the distance where he could sense the whole, hale, _mostly calm_ Captains. They stood out like beacons to his senses, from the banked-fire feel of the Soutaichou down to the stab-happy Kenpachi, every single Captain he was familiar with was present. Including…

A snarl twisted Shiro's features, as he finally placed the feel of Aizen's reiatsu. The bastard had returned to Seireitei! How had he managed to twist the Captains about like that again? _Why_? When he had been so close to _winning_?

The sheer unnaturalness of the moment broke through Shiro's fury, like being doused with ice water.

"Did Aizen get us?" he asked the air. "Did he trap us in his shikai?"

Nothing answered him. No sign of Aizen come to gloat, no whisper of reaction from the three unconscious spirits, only the cries of birds and the rustle of leaves in the distance.

The reiatsu presences of the Captains recaptured his attention, as a few slowly became agitated and began moving about. Shiro frowned in the direction of Seireitei, trying to determine what was wrong, and if he should investigate. When he felt two begin to move towards _him_ , shock forced him to pull his reiatsu back in and tuck it away as tightly as he could.

"Shit," he breathed, as he cast a frantic glance around the clearing he was standing in. The Captains were after him, there was nowhere to hide, and he didn't think he could take on _two_ well rested Captains in his current condition.

"Fuckin' bastard Shinigami," Shiro muttered, as he started to stumble his way towards the forest. "Always gotta hunt th'things that stand out."

Panic rose in his heart. The Shinigami were closing fast. He would never make it to the forest in time, much less find a place to hide when they had sensed him all the way from the Seireitei!

Instincts reared up, driven by his growing desperation. Wisps of reiatsu clung to his fingers, as he clawed at the air in front of him, tearing a hole through reality that he promptly fell through and sealed behind him. He didn't so much land on a path as an island, a tiny red platform in the vast emptiness of the precipice world. Pockmarks marred the surface under his hands, and the edges of the platform faded off into thin wisps of red, like mist burning away in the sun.

Shiro grunted, pushing himself over until he was laying on his back, staring up at the blackness that he had entered through. He almost expected the Captains to leap through the veil after him, but… no. They couldn't, could they? He almost wished he'd paid more attention to Hat'n'Clogs, but… that was supposed to be _Ichigo_ _'s_ place.

"An' now I gotta save _all_ our fuckin' asses," Shiro grumbled, as he found the will to push himself to his feet. The darkness stretched forever in every direction, and Shiro stared blankly at the featureless realm around him. How was he supposed to navigate _this_?

A tiny tug on his instincts made him turn around, to peer off into the darkness. He saw nothing different about one direction over another, but… his instincts insisted that safety was in that direction.

With a shrug, Shiro set off, forging a path before him and making it as smooth as he could in the face of his depleted state. It seemed an eternity, marked only by his increasing fatigue and the narrowing path, before his instincts twinged again, causing him to raise reiatsu-coated fingers again and tear aside the veil between realities. His path opened out into the dimly lit Forest of Menos, with its glittering not-trees and constant rumble of Hollow cries.

With a soft curse, Shiro stepped through, pulling the remains of his reiatsu in as close as he could. He was in no condition to deal with swarms of small fry yet, but it was — probably? — better than sticking around to try and sweet talk Shinigami into accepting him.

Shiro paused at that thought, then snorted in disbelief and shook his head. He rarely paid much attention to anything not combat, but he knew _enough._ Enough to know that the Shinigami had rejected their own when they had become part Hollow. Chances that he could convince those die-hards of _anything_? Nil.

No, he was better off here, where he could find a little cave to tuck himself away in and rest. If he did it right, the giant Menos that called this place home would be unable to reach him.

He called up as much strength as he could and wandered deeper into the forest, eyes scanning constantly and senses as alert as he could drive them. Exhaustion dragged at his feet, the nearly empty well of reiryoku in their soul taking a toll on Uryuu's body. It was only because his own reiryoku hadn't been touched by the stupid stunt that saw the others driven into unconsciousness that he was able to move at all.

But having to support everything on his own? He was quickly running dry, even after consciously reigning in his natural healing.

A tiny little hole caught his attention, and Shiro crouched beside it to peer as deep into it as he could. He could neither see nor sense anything deeper in, and the tunnel was large enough that he could crawl into it and still have room to defend himself.

Shiro pulled a Ginto free, and cracked it open the way Uryuu had. The short blade of light erupted in his hand, a much more manageable weapon in the confined space he was about to enter than the dao, even if the dao was better suited to stabbing than Ichigo's original blade.

He crept into the hole, senses pushed to their limit and nerves strung tight. He was running out of time. He needed rest, _they_ needed rest, and they couldn't do that unless they were mostly safe, first. If this tunnel was a bust, he'd just mound sand up to block a section off and sleep.

The tunnel opened out into a small cave, large enough for Shiro to stand upright and look around. Tiny lizard Hollows skittered away from the light of Ginto, leaving the cave otherwise empty and silent. Shiro marked the holes the lizards had escaped into, noting that none of them were large enough for him to fit through, and took in the rest of the place. Beyond the tunnel he had crawled through, only two other tunnels were large enough for him to fit through, and there didn't seem to be any other way into the cave.

Deeming the place acceptable, Shiro resealed the Ginto and hooked it back in place. With the last of his strength, he mounded sand into the three entrances that were large enough for him to fit through, then made himself a hollow in the sand that remained.

He didn't even remember curling up, before darkness claimed him.

* * *

Uryuu came to slowly, feeling worse than he ever had in his life. His head felt overstuffed, his limbs felt like blocks of granite were tied to them, and he could already tell that his reiryoku was almost as low as when he had burned himself out.

When he finally managed to pry his eyes open, he gazed dumbly at the glittering white sand and blue-grey stone and tried to piece together what had led up to this. A masked lizard skittered across his line of sight, drawing up memories of traveling through Hueco Mundo alongside Ichigo.

Any thought that the whole crazy adventure had been a dream was disproved by a simple check inward; though Ichigo and the other two were clearly unconscious, he could still sense them, which rather ruled out the vain hope that it had all been just a delusion.

Slowly, he pushed himself upright, taking in the small cave with the crudely blocked tunnels. Try as he might, he couldn't figure out what had happened; he remember fighting Aizen, and skewering the man through the torso with a Ginto boosted arrow, and the kidou the man still managed to fire off, but beyond that… nothing.

Uryuu buried his face in his hands and desperately tried to remember. How had he found himself back in Hueco Mundo, exhausted and tucked away in a hidden cave?

Nothing came to him. Just a blank gap between fighting to escape the kidou and waking up. He finally just sighed and accepted the mystery for what it was, something he couldn't solve until the other pieces of him awoke once more. Until then, he needed to rest and recover his reiryoku.

His stomach growled at that, making him grimace. For him, it had been months since he had actually eaten anything; Shiro had taken pity on him early on during their training, teaching him how to absorb ambient reishi in order to sustain his body. He couldn't do it forever, though, and was rapidly reaching that limit. Hopefully, he could at least last until Ichigo and the others awoke.

In the mean time, he settled into meditation and set about slowly absorbing the reishi around him. It was a bit more difficult than he had grown used to; the reishi in Hueco Mundo still seared at the last remaining vestiges of his Quincy heritage, though it was manageable. More like attempting to eat very spicy food, rather than acid.

Uryuu lost track of time, as he slowly replenished his reserves and ignored his body's protests as best he could. He did what he could to keep his reiatsu contained, not willing to draw attention to himself yet, though it wasn't a difficult feat with how low on energy he actually was.

(*Uryuu..?*) Ichigo's sleepy voice interrupted his meditation, as the other finally woke.

Relief rushed through Uryuu at his friend's voice, and he twisted his meditation inward, following Ichigo's voice into his mindscape. He appeared before Ichigo, inside one of the sideways towers, and took in the room at a glance.

Ichigo was easy to spot, as he was sitting right in front of Uryuu, using a wall to prop himself up. A careful examination reassured Uryuu that, though clearly tired, Ichigo was otherwise unharmed from whatever had happened to them.

Zangetsu, on the other hand, was sprawled across the floor like a discarded doll. It hardly looked comfortable, and Uryuu wasted no time in moving to the spirit and rearranging the man into a more natural repose.

"Is he..?" Ichigo asked softly, as he watched Uryuu tend to Zangetsu.

Uryuu grimaced, as he took in the blackened skin on the Old Man's hands, and wondered how to answer that.

"I think he'll be fine," Uryuu finally said. He gently rested the Old Man's arms across his chest, palms turned to the side so the burnt skin wasn't touching anything. "His hands look to be already healing, and I can't see anything else obviously wrong."

It took him a moment to spot Shiro, with the way the spirit had curled himself up into a tight ball and then tucked himself away in a corner. Much like Ichigo, Uryuu couldn't see any obvious signs of wounding, and felt relief in the knowledge that they had all survived relatively unharmed.

"Wh— oh, what happened? Did we win?" Ichigo asked around a yawn, once Uryuu had completed his check.

Uryuu shook his head, as he moved back to Ichigo and slid down the wall till he was seated next to his friend. "I don't know. I only woke up a while ago, exhausted and pretty much empty of reiryoku, somewhere in Hueco Mundo."

Ichigo's brows furrowed, his perpetual scowl deepening. "In Hueco Mundo? But…"

"I know," Uryuu responded quietly. He glance over at Shiro's curled up form. "I think he had something to do with that, but whether it was a planned retreat to save our collective ass, or an instinctive reaction to being wounded and exhausted…"

"Both," Shiro muttered grumpily, one amber eye cracking open to fix Ichigo and Uryuu with a tired glare. "Can't y'two talk quieter? Some a'us're tryin' t'recov'r from whatev'r th'fuck happened."

"Shiro, what can you tell us?" Ichigo asked, as he ignored Shiro's grumbles about bothersome landlords.

The spirit finally pushed himself upright with a sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His eyes were barely open, and Uryuu was certain Shiro wasn't actually focusing on them, just looking in their direction.

It was distinctly odd, Uryuu mused as he watched Shiro scrub at his face with an arm, to see Shiro so exhausted and out of it. It was not something he wanted to see again.

"Okay, look, here's what I know," Shiro finally spoke, as he glowered down at the floor in front of him. "Th'three a'ya passed th'fuck out in th'middle a'the fight with Aizen, so I took over. Cept, when I got out there, Aizen _wasn_ _'t there._ "

"He ran?" Ichigo asked.

Shiro hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "Look, this is gunna sound weird as fuck, an' I don't even really b'lieve it m'self, but… I don't think we're in _our world_ anymore. When I took over, there weren't any signs a'combat, an' I couldn't sense Karakura, an' when I managed t'sense Seireitei, _Aizen was wit th_ _'Captains an' nothin' seemed wrong._ Well, 'cept for th'fact that they 'parently sensed _me_ an' decided t'kill me."

Ichigo and Uryuu exchanged glances, wary and uncertain.

Uryuu felt like his mind had ground to a halt, as he tried to process what Shiro was saying. He'd accuse the spirit of lying, or exaggerating, but nothing about Shiro's words felt like a lie, which left the idea that everything Shiro had stated was _true as the spirit saw it_. Or that Uryuu was unable to tell if the other was lying, but… Shiro didn't seem the sort, really. To lie by omission, sure, even Ichigo managed that on occasion, but Ichigo was a horrible liar and Uryuu was pretty sure that carried over to his doppleganger.

"If… if we're not in our world anymore…" Ichigo started to say, before he swallowed hard and looked away, staring out one window at the mineral trees of the Menos Forest. "If we're not in our own world, then…"

"Then Aizen might not be evil here," Uryuu finished, before he shook his head and gathered his courage with both hands. "There's another option. If there was no sign of combat, then that could mean we're back in time. Shiro, did you recognize any of the Captains besides Aizen and the Soutaichou?"

"Yeah, all a'em," Shiro replied. He then shook his head, and clarified, "I mean, th'one's we're used ta, not those pansy ass Visored. Hat'n'Clogs wasn't there either."

Ichigo's gaze was troubled. Had everything they had gone through, everything they had done, just been undone?

Uryuu's hands clenched, as he considered that. If it was all undone, if they were in a time before Aizen gained the Hougyoku…

"We can't," Ichigo said, breaking Uryuu out of his thoughts. "We can't killed Aizen right now. Either we're back in time, or a different world, or something _else_ is going on, and we can't guarantee that Aizen is still evil."

"Yeah, b'sides, if we jes murder Aizen in cold blood, we ain't never gunna get a nights rest again," Shiro added. At the two's incredulous looks, Shiro raised his hands in surrender. "What?! I ain't dumb! Aizen had everyone wrapped 'round his lit'lest finger, right? So evil or not, killin' him _now_ would jes mean bein' hunted fer th'rest'a ferever, right?"

Uryuu slowly nodded, accepting the logic behind Shiro's words, no matter how little he like them. The idea of just killing the man, before he grew to be such a terrifying foe, was an appealing one.

"We've already got a teeny-tiny problem, 'cause a'the Captains sensin' me when we arrived," Shiro tacked on. "An' we all know how they feel 'bout _outliers_. If Aizen's still 'round, then Aibo's not invaded an' started turnin' their minds 'round. I don't _think_ they could sense anythin' but a really strong Hollow, 'cause a'how burned out th'two a'ya were, so they probably won't be lookin' fer a hybrid jes yet."

"And you fled to Hueco Mundo," Ichigo murmured, his eyes lighting up with understanding. "Which will make them think that it really was just a Hollow, because only Hollows can do that."

The three of them fell into quiet thought, or at least Uryuu and Ichigo did. Shiro looked like he was falling back to sleep, his body practically folded in half with his forehead resting on his hands. Not that Uryuu could really blame the spirit; to flee across the realms in the exhausted state his body had been in had to have been difficult.

Uryuu considered their next step. They couldn't stay in Hueco Mundo forever, not if they actually wanted to change the outcome of events, but Soul Society was a dangerous place for them to return to, no matter how tempting the idea of keeping an eye on Aizen was.

"We should go to Hat'n'Clogs," Ichigo said, breaking the silence between them.

Uryuu frowned, fiddling with his glasses as he considered. "He's dangerous."

"So's everyone else."

"He's part of the reason this happened."

"He's trying to atone," Ichigo replied.

Uryuu grimaced, as he fumbled for any excuse to not turn to the man. "He's a Shinigami."

"An outcast," Ichigo reminded Uryuu. "Look, I know you don't really like him, I get that, but… do we have anyone else to turn to?"

"We don't even really have him," Uryuu shot back. "This isn't your 'Hat'n'Clogs'. This version of Urahara doesn't even know us, even if he knows our counterparts — if they even exist in this world."

"He'll help us," Ichigo replied, a mulish tilt to his chin. "I'll make the idiot help us, if I have to."

Uryuu snorted at his friend's insistence, reminded of other times Ichigo faced something he _refused to accept_ and beat it into submission. He might as well just accept that they were going to see Urahara soon, because he recognized that look. Nothing would sway Ichigo from his path now.

"I suppose," Uryuu accepted with as much grace as he could. "It beats stealing and breaking into places to sleep, which we would otherwise have to do."

"Eh? Why?"

Uryuu sighed at Ichigo's cluelessness. "Ichigo, why would I take currency from the Human World on a trip to Hueco Mundo? Or my identification? If this _is_ the past, and is identical to _our_ past, I could get into my apartment, but even being careful I doubt I could do it often. I was proficient at reiatsu sensing long before I met you, and our reiatsu is too vast to be contained easily. I'd be leaving traces _all over the apartment_ , and forgive me if I'd rather not meet the pointy end of a Quincy arrow."

"Hey! That's right! Past-you isn't the Last Quincy anymore!"

Uryuu groaned, as he buried his face in his hands and counted to ten. It helped. Marginally. " _Technically_ , he still is. We're a hybrid, Quincy skills or not."

Before Ichigo could interject any more stupid asides — or remind him any more of how prideful and foolish he had been in the beginning — Uryuu pushed himself to his feet and walked over to Shiro, nudging the spirit with his foot. "Think you're up to getting us back to the Human World?"

Shiro's head tilted just enough for him to crack open one amber eye and fix Uryuu with a baleful look. "Fuck ya too."

Uryuu just continued to stare down at the spirit, until Shiro sighed and unfolded.

"Fine. I'm doin' this on fuckin' protest, though!"

With that, Shiro glared up at Uryuu, then vanished from the mindscape.

* * *

Shiro didn't even bother leaving the little cave he had found. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet, stomped vengefully on one of the harmless little lizards just to hear it squeak, and glowered at the space in front of him.

Slowly, as he forced himself to remember what it felt like to cross the void between worlds, his fingers became coated with wisps of red reiatsu. He swiped his hand across the air in front of him, tearing aside the veil between worlds, and stepped through into the void.

The green and black platform that formed beneath his feet was large and smooth, though it still faded away into wisps of reiatsu along the edges. The color difference was reassuring, even if he had still used only his personal red reiatsu to tear open the Garganta. Their reserves had clearly started to fill once more, even if Shiro was certain they were still at barely half-strength.

Shiro set off across the void, listening to his instincts as he tried to direct himself to appear near the edge of Karakura. That should give him time to retreat inward, before anyone got the idea to go Hollow hunting and arrived at the scene. Even at half strength, he doubted he would find the past versions of Koneko or Aibo very difficult to manage, but Hat'n'Clogs on the other hand…

Well. Koneko was right. This wasn't _their_ Hat'n'Clogs, and the man could be horrifically territorial when it came to potential threats to his student or his student's friends.

His instincts flared, and Shiro raised reiatsu-coated fingers to once more claw open a Garganta.

He stepped out into the air, on the edge of an unbroken Karakura. The sun seemed impossibly bright, the air peaceful in a way Shiro barely remembered it being.

"All yers, Koneko," Shiro muttered, as he casually landed on the roof of a building and ceded control back to Uryuu. Maybe now those two would let him go back to sleep.

* * *

Uryuu took a moment to just _breathe_ , staring out over the undamaged landscape with a desperation he hadn't realized he would feel. This… this was proof that everything he had gone through had been undone, wiped away with a careless hand, leaving him stranded in a time not his own.

Tentatively, he reached out with his senses, searching for those he knew. He was certain he was within his own time, for the town looked familiar, but how similar was this world to his own?

(*Looks like I'm already a Shinigami,*) Ichigo said softly, as Uryuu's senses picked up Ichigo's distinct reiatsu, already tinted red with the nature of a Shinigami.

"Yeah," Uryuu breathed out, not making the effort to reply mentally. Ichigo's reiatsu blanketed the town, lingering and drifting about through the paths his friend commonly took, leaving a trail of power that was difficult to see through. He gently reached past it, searching for the others that made up their group, trying to place where he was in the time line.

A strange signature caught his attention, strong enough to stand out against Ichigo's untrained spill, and Uryuu frowned as he tried to put a name to it. Was this truly another world, with different people?

(*That's _you_ ,*) Ichigo spoke up, after they had both puzzled over it for a moment. (*Your past self, I mean. At least, I think so?*)

 _That was_ _…_ Uryuu's breath caught in his throat, as he pulled up the Reiraku and gently captured the white ribbon that had caught his attention. Touching it brought it further into focus, and he had to agree with Ichigo — it felt far too much like Ryuuken's ribbon to be anything _but_ his past self. He hadn't recognized it because he had never seen his own reiatsu from the outside like that, as a separate thing generated by a different person.

(*Were you always… I mean… ah…*)

Uryuu frowned, trying to puzzle out what Ichigo was trying, and failing, to ask. ( _*Was I what?*_ )

Ichigo's embarrassment flooded through Uryuu, and his friend refused to answer, apparently thinking better of whatever it was that had caught his attention. Uryuu shrugged, letting it go for the moment, and dropped his past self's ribbon in favor of examining the rest that coiled through the air around him.

His hands darted out, gently capturing and sorting the ribbons as he tried to make sense of everything. Here were Ichigo's siblings, alive and well; Sado with his slowly awakening strength; Inoue with her growing awareness; the tiny sparks of Ichigo's other friends, banked and flickering.

(*This is before Rukia is captured, I think,*) Ichigo said, as Uryuu contemplated the ribbons he had set aside.

( _*Yes, I_ _— shit!*_ )

Frantic, Uryuu dropped the technique and darted away in a rush of hirenkyaku. Behind him, the approaching signature sped up, homing in on him despite his hurried attempts at concealing his reiatsu.

He wasn't ready! Not to face any of them, even that crazy shopkeeper Urahara!

Uryuu's mouth went dry as he kept fleeing and Urahara kept following. Did the man consider him a threat, or just a curiosity? He could sense nothing from the man's reiatsu, just a steady intensity and focus that, frankly, frightened him. The memory of Aizen, erupting into a pyre of his own power, loomed across Uryuu's mind — what if Urahara decided to do something _final_ to him like that?

(*Don't approach any of us,*) Ichigo's voice was steady, as he tried to calm Uryuu's racing thoughts. (*Keep to the edges of town, don't make any threatening movements, and find a place without bystanders.*)

It helped, slightly. Uryuu clamped down on his panic and directed that energy into his movements, pushing himself faster, though he still had no idea where to go. Where was a good place? What wouldn't draw the man's ire down upon him? He didn't _know_ , and that not knowing _ate_ at him. It was one thing to say they were going to approach Urahara, it was another to have it happen so quickly and not on their terms!

(*There, the river,*) Ichigo's steady voice directed his flight, and Uryuu turned to race alongside it, triggering the rush of hirenkyaku so quickly that each slide led directly into the next, until everything blurred together into one long activation.

Uryuu darted aside, as Urahara's signature suddenly disappeared from behind him and reappeared in front of him. His senses told him there was no one around, not even any ghosts, and so Uryuu reluctantly gave up his flight and turned to face the shopkeeper. He tried to stand easy, leaving his hands open at his side with his palms facing Urahara in a gesture of goodwill, but he couldn't help the tension that coiled through his muscles, or the way his gaze tracked every movement of Urahara's cane.

"My, my," Urahara spoke cheerfully, as he took in Uryuu with a long long. "I thought I was hunting a Hollow, but instead I find a mystery."

"Urahara," Uryuu greeted the man as neutrally as possible, trying not to let the perusal bother him.

"Oh, and already know of me! I'm flattered, Mystery-san!"

Uryuu didn't reply, though he tensed as Urahara took a few steps closer to him. Every instinct in him was urging him to flee, to escape this uncomfortable meeting, but in this Ichigo was right. Urahara was likely their only option to get settled into this time line, and further fleeing without being overtly threatened was not going to endear them to the man.

"My, so wary, Mystery-san! May I ask your name?" Urahara asked, as he flicked his fan out and covered his lower face with it.

A part of Uryuu relaxed at that, Ichigo's instincts and memories of the man bleeding through. Urahara-with-fan meant teasing, and goofy antics, and stuff that made Ichigo want to punch the man in frustration, but not _danger._ Of course, he instantly regretted that small relaxation, when he noticed Urahara's gaze turning thoughtful.

(*He'll have us figured out soon,*) Ichigo predicted. (*You're a bit too obviously _you_ still, and I bet he knows that Quincy are poisoned by Hollows, so the fact that we came through a Garganta will stand out. On top of the hair, really.* )

( _*Yes. Thank you for reminding me of how ridiculous I look. I appreciate it,*_ ) Uryuu replied dryly, even as he tried to come up with how he wanted to answer Urahara. He couldn't… they hadn't… his emotions were all twisted around, tangled up in tell-don't-tell and fear and reluctance. Ichigo had been the one to trust Urahara, not Uryuu, and now he was faced with a version of the man that _didn_ _'t know either of them_ , and…

Urahara's eyes narrowed in the face of Uryuu's silence, and the man closed his fan with a snap. "Very well. I suppose if you won't tell me, then I'll just have to tell you what I already know."

Uryuu froze, his heart lodged in his throat, and he felt like a trapped beast as Urahara started to pace closer.

"You look quite like the Quincy boy, Ishida Uryuu, though your reiatsu isn't quite right to be him. I'm already aware that his only living relatives are his father, who definitely wouldn't have another child around his own son's age, and his cousin Kurosaki Ichigo. Who, I must add, you _also_ bear a resemblance to, in both appearance and reiatsu." Urahara paused a few feet away from Uryuu and gave him another thorough examination, before the fan made another appearance and Urahara cheerfully concluded, "So! How did they have you? I must admit, I didn't think they had it in them, but I guess love springs eternal!"

His breath caught in his throat and he started choking on his own spit, shock whiting out every thought in his head. Shiro's raucous laughter echoed through his mind, as the spirit fell into hysterics at the very idea.

(*What— you— he— _**US?**_ *) Ichigo sputtered and shrieked, completely derailed from the calm he was trying to project by the direction Urahara had taken the conversation.

Furious, Uryuu shot Urahara a glare filled with as much malice as he could muster, though by the other's smirk it wasn't effective in the slightest.

"I'm not—!" Uryuu started, his voice sounding strangled and weak even to his own ears. _Fuck_ , was that the conclusion that _everyone_ was going to draw when they saw him?!

"I know," Urahara replied, his voice serious, as he lowered his fan and tapped it against his upper arm. "You share too many similarities in reiatsu to be their son, even in the unlikely situation that they saw each other that way at some point in the future. And far too many to be their grandchild."

Uryuu nodded slightly, though his brain still felt like it was stuck on repeat, fixated on the terrifying idea that everyone would mistake him for his own _son_ with _Ichigo_.

Urahara's bright laughter brought him back to earth just slightly. The man had his fan covering the lower half of his face again, though Uryuu could see his bright grin reflected in the man's laughing eyes.

"How about we discuss this in my shop?" Urahara asked innocently. "I'm sure you know where it is, hmm?"

Without waiting for him to answer, Urahara flashed away towards his shop, leaving Uryuu standing on the bank of the river and still trying to process the encounter.

Uryuu sighed, accepted that Urahara would always be a frustrating man no matter when they were, and took off after the man, tracing the path back to the Shoten without thought. Though he hadn't spent as much time there as Ichigo, he had still visited several times, and remembered it very well. Especially since it was the last place he saw Ichigo _alive_ and _safe_ and _not fighting for his life_ , as they gathered in order to travel to Hueco Mundo.

Still, he kept his senses open, making sure he didn't run into anyone involved with the spiritual world. None of his peers — and he reluctantly included his past self in that assessment — were as accomplished at reiatsu sensing as Urahara was, and he'd _really_ rather avoid anyone jumping to uncomfortable conclusions. When he made it to the Shoten, he found Urahara sitting at the table with two cups of tea already prepared.

Feeling a little awkward, Uryuu folded his legs and sat across from the shopkeeper, picking up the cup of tea and cradling it in his hands just to have something to do with them. The warmth was also very welcome, giving him something external to ground himself with.

"How about we start at the beginning, since I know you can't be a descendant, no matter how amusing that would be," Urahara prompted, when Uryuu was content to remain seated in silence, staring into his cup of tea.

"It all went to hell," Uryuu admitted softly, not looking up from his drink. "We went to Hueco Mundo to save Inoue-san, and it just… all fell apart."

At Urahara's soft noise of encouragement, Uryuu took a deep breath and forged on. "Ichigo… died. And through some twisted luck on both our parts, I ended up absorbing him into me."

He chanced a brief glance upwards, taking in the flash of pain that crossed Urahara's expression at that admission, before he returned his attention to his tea. Uryuu took a small sip, swallowing it so quickly he barely tasted the flavour, just the burning heat it left behind. "I'm not a Quincy anymore, Ichigo is apparently my Zanpakutou, and I have all of Ichigo's spirits in my head."

"And your method of returning? Did I… send you back?" Urahara asked, his voice tense and heavy with emotions that Uryuu couldn't untangle.

Uryuu shook his head, though he didn't look back up at the man. "No. Last I saw you, you were unconscious after being beaten by Aizen. Ichigo and I went to fight Aizen, and he cast a high level kidou on us. We shattered it, but it left us unconscious and in a strange situation that none of us understood, so… we made our way back to Karakura, in the hopes that _something_ would make sense."

"Do you remember what kidou he cast?" Urahara asked, "That might help me understand how you arrived."

Uryuu shrugged awkwardly, as he closed his eyes and tried to recall. It was all a blur in his mind, of adrenaline and pinpoint focus, but he finally managed to isolate the moment when Aizen had called out the number, "Hado… ninety, I think he called out?"

Urahara made a noise of enlightenment, which caused Uryuu to look up sharply and fix the man with a curious gaze.

"Did he say the full chant?" At Uryuu's nod, Urahara nodded sharply in return. "That would explain it. I'm not entirely sure how you survived, but that hado is capable of bending space and time when at full power."

(*Well, one mystery solved. Our luck strikes again,*) Ichigo said, trying to lighten the mood a bit. (*I guess I'm just happy we lived.*)

( _*You mean_ _ **your**_ _luck strikes again. And what the hell do we do now?*_ ) Uryuu asked, feeling completely at a loss. It was all well and good to confirm that they were back in time, but what could they really _do_ with that?

(*We change things,*) Ichigo firmly stated. (*We change things, and keep _these_ versions of _us_ from having to go through what we did.* )

* * *

Phew, finally back in the past! When I started writing this story, I had expected to be back in the past by, like, chapter 3 or 4, not chapter 8! But then it just kept getting longer and longer, and things kept happening, and... phew! Well, I hope the combat with Aizen wasn't a disappointment to anyone.

On a somewhat related note, I have an announcement: I've started a account in an effort to lessen my stress over bills and life in general. **I am not holding anything for ransom**. Updates will continue here as they have, on the last Tuesday of every month. Chapters will be the same length they would have otherwise been. Patrons will, instead, get smaller updates every Tuesday, and people who give more than the base tier will also get extra things, like access to my world building materials, and unedited drabbles I use to get an idea on how some characters would react, and even access to unedited future stories where their input can affect the way the story evolves. The first nearly 3000 words of Chapter 9 are already posted up on , and the next update will be next Tuesday, for another segment between 2,000-4,000 words.

If you're interested, look me up at www . . c o m (slash) akaluan and if you're not? Enjoy the story just like usual!

Ja ne!


	9. Settling In

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and those people/companies that publish Bleach. I own nothing except my meagre attempts at playing in his sandbox.

Warnings: Pretty much everybody's mouth, described violence (it IS Bleach, after all), Also unbetaed

( _Everything's green_ ) - Subconscious flow of thoughts  
( _*Why is everything green?*_ ) - Uryuu actively thinking  
(*Because it is.*) - Ichigo actively thinking  
( ***Who th'hell cares?!*** ) - Shiro actively thinking  
( _*Peace, hollow.*_ ) - Old Man Zangetsu actively thinking

* * *

Uryuu stared thoughtfully into his tea, turning Ichigo's words over in his mind, even as Urahara watched him across the table. Could they actually accomplish anything? Could they turn aside the fate that had woven itself around Ichigo and him?

(Could he even live with himself if he didn't try?)

"I need an identity," Uryuu spoke up, finally lifting his head to meet Urahara's gaze. He held himself steady, trying to portray a confidence he didn't actually feel. "I need an identity and a way to blend in."

(Could he survive everything falling apart on him again?)

"Ooh? You won't announce yourself?" Urahara asked, an amused glint in his shadowed eyes.

Uryuu snorted, glowering at Urahara, and growled, "I would rather not have anyone else jump to the conclusion you reached, even if you did it in jest."

Urahara's fan came to rest in front of his face, hiding his grin from Uryuu. "Like your past self?"

(He could chase his past self off. Take his place. At least this version of himself would never have to know the terror of war.)

Uryuu made a noise of agreement, brushing his thoughts aside. No, he was a stubborn person, determined to show up the Shinigami. There was no way he could drive his past self off, not without causing irreparable harm to the teen. "I… didn't really get along with Ichigo at first. I'd rather not strain that connection more than necessary."

(*Understatement,*) Ichigo muttered, remembering the first prickly moments between them. Two self-professed loners, circling and snarling as they tried to settle into a comfortable rhythm.

( _*Shut up.*_ )

"I could make you a gigai, I suppose," Urahara mused, as he examined Uryuu over the top of his fan. "Not much I can do about your bone structure, because having a gigai be _that_ different would be very uncomfortable, but your coloration…"

Uryuu blinked, trying to piece together why Urahara was bringing up the fake bodies that Shinigami used to walk among the living. "A… gigai? Why?"

"You haven't realized? No, I suppose you wouldn't," Urahara said softly, as he flicked his fan closed and set it down on the table in front of him with a deliberate care. "I suspect, if you traveled to Hueco Mundo, that I managed to complete a method to transform your human body into reishi. Whatever happened when you and Ichigo merged, or possibly even when you came back in time, you're a soul now, not a reishi construct that I could reconstruct with some research."

It took everything he had to keep his fingers from shattering the tea cup in his grasp, as the meaning of Urahara's words hit him like a punch in the gut. His breath came in short, sharp pants, vision going grey along the edges. He wasn't even _alive_ anymore. He was a _soul._ He belonged in _Soul Society_ , except he _didn't_ because this _wasn't his time_ and…

A large, warm hand wrapped around the back of his neck, grounding him in the present as Urahara's voice finally broke through the white noise that had filled his mind.

"Just breathe. In, and out, focus on my voice," Urahara said, as he knelt beside Uryuu and coaxed him through the next several breaths, until Uryuu slumped forward, body trembling but breathing even once more. "I apologize. I should have watched myself a bit better than that."

"No, it's… it's fine," Uryuu forced out, as he took a drink of his tea and tried to put his scrambled thoughts back into order. Ichigo's concern and support was like an anchor, and he held tight to that feeling to give himself a bit of stability. "I needed to know and… I don't know why…"

"I do," Urahara replied, as he finally lifted his hand from the back of Uryuu's neck and sat back down in his previous spot at the table, then bowed to Uryuu. "You've barely had time to process your friend's death, much less arriving in this time, and then I drop another bombshell atop you without warning. Forgive me."

Uryuu considered telling Urahara for a moment of the three months spent in the dangai, of his grief and his grieving and his _acceptance_ of his new reality, but held his tongue. Something like that… it was private, and he didn't know Urahara enough, much less _this_ version of the man, to speak of it. "It's fine. I… I'll be fine."

Urahara slowly lifted from his bow, his eyes shadowed by his hat and yet still so piercing that Uryuu had to look away. Perhaps he wasn't fine, but what choice did he currently have but to keep moving forward?

Urahara didn't look like he believed Uryuu for a second, but obligingly let the topic go and began to speak again, though his cheerful tone was perhaps a bit too forced to be real, "I could even make your hair and eyes pale, we could say you're my son!"

"I'll look like myself with pale hair," Uryuu muttered into his tea, as he took another sip of the cooling liquid. Urahara's statement finally wormed the rest of the way through his buzzing thoughts, and Uryuu choked on his mouthful, "Wait, your _son?!_ "

"Oh, don't be so skeptical!" Urahara replied, a wicked grin on his face that gave Uryuu a _very bad feeling_. "I'd make a wonderful father!"

(*Hat'n'Clogs has a plan,*) Ichigo moaned. (*We're never going to escape it now!*)

Privately, Uryuu agreed with the sentiment, though he would still try his best to escape.

"We look nothing alike," Uryuu insisted, as he narrowed his eyes at the mad scientist across from him. "How you intend to convince people we're _related_ is beyond me."

"Why, by saying you took after your adorable mother!"

"And who would that be?"

Urahara shrugged and waved a hand as if brushing the matter aside, though his piercing gaze never left Uryuu. "Does it really matter? I can say Yoruichi found you on a run through Soul Society, and brought you to me to keep you safe from retribution and the attentions of the Shinigami. Your past selves would believe it of me, and the others won't care beyond the point that I'm vouching for another stray."

Uryuu hesitated, pushing as much of his jumbled thoughts to the side as he could to give this suggestion his full attention. He wanted to reject the idea outright, but Urahara was right; he'd have believed the man capable of having children, on account of the fact that _nothing_ Urahara said could be immediately discounted as wrong. It was slowly hitting him just how _old_ so many people he and Ichigo knew actually were, and how little of their pasts they were aware of.

One thing stuck in his mind, though. "You said my reiatsu feels like, well, a combination of mine and Ichigo's. How will you get around that?"

"Hmm, that's a bit more troublesome, true," Urahara admitted, as he rubbed at his chin and stared off into space for a bit. "I think I can fix that, though. I'll just need to tweak the settings I used to hide my reiatsu from Seireitei. Maybe turn it into some sort of amulet you can wear in your spirit form."

(*Are we actually going to go along with this?*) Ichigo asked in wonder, (*Are we actually going to pose as his _son?_ *)

( _*You said he's the one most likely to make us a place,*_ ) Uryuu reminded his friend, even if he privately shared Ichigo's disbelief. It had to be the way his thoughts kept scattering that kept him from finding a rational argument to the contrary, there was no way he would have gone along with this otherwise. ( _*If you have any better ideas, I'm all ears.*_ )

"So! We need a new name for you!" Urahara announced, his voice outwardly cheerful but his gaze wary as he watched Uryuu. "You'll use Urahara, of course, so we need a good personal name! How about Ichirou?"

"I will make your life _miserable_ if you call me that," Uryuu growled, narrowing his eyes at Urahara.

Urahara raised his hands in surrender, the wariness in his gaze fading slightly as amusement crept in. "Katsuro? Fumio? Osamu? Eiji? Oooh, how about Ryuu?"

"Isn't the whole point of giving me another name to draw attention _away_ from my resemblance to my past self?" Uryuu asked.

"Well, yes, and I suppose Urahara Ryuu is as much a mouthful as Urahara Uryuu," Urahara admitted willingly, before he shot Uryuu a smug smile. "But remember, your mother named you, and _she_ never met Ishida Uryuu."

Uryuu hesitated, tempted for a brief moment to cling to his identity, to just let the pieces fall how they would. It was the easy way out, but…

( _Enshroud the world in a moonless night, Kakure Ichigo!_ )

His blade was named Ichigo. Uryuu and Ichigo. Ichigo and Uryuu. One similarity could be overlooked — a coincidence, a happenstance, something to find amusement in and find common ground over — but two? Two identical names, with a blade and a bankai suspiciously similar to Kurosaki's own?

No. Even Kurosaki would start piecing the clues together, and Inoue might accidentally stumble across the truth in the midst of her madcap ramblings.

"No," Uryuu reluctantly admitted with a shake of his head. "I can't be Uryuu here. And if you even _think_ about calling me Ichigo, I will make _sure_ to make your life a living _hell._ "

"My, so vengeful at such a young age!" Urahara exclaimed, then chuckled nervously as Uryuu's glare darkened.

Uryuu sighed through his nose and set his empty cup of tea down on the table. He thought back to the names Urahara had mentioned, trying to pair them up with the family name he was apparently going to be stuck with.

(*We could always go with something else,*) Ichigo reminded him. (*Just because he suggested it, doesn't mean we need to consider it.*)

( ***I vote we call ya Tora!*** )

He pinched the bridge of his nose at Shiro's suggestion. ( _*No. I refuse to be called anything related to cats, tigers, or kittens. Besides, we're apparently going to have Urahara's hair color now, so no more stripes.*_ )

( ***Tch, ruin my fun why don'tcha, Koneko,*** ) Shiro grumbled, though Uryuu could sense only amusement from the spirit.

"What's this?" Urahara asked, as he leaned across the table and stared thoughtfully at Uryuu. "I thought you looked a bit distracted a few times before, but… you're actually holding a conversion with your other spirits right now, aren't you? Fascinating!"

Uryuu leaned away from Urahara, unused to such blatant disregard for his personal space while he was in his right mind. "Can't you?"

Urahara grinned and sat back, his fan coming up to cover the lower half of his face. "Well of course! But usually only in combat or when I've just returned from Jinzen. Not many Shinigami are capable of speaking with their blade outside of meditation at all, you know."

He shrugged uncomfortably, looking away from Urahara as he was once more reminded of how strange his very existence was. "If there is anything I have learned, it's that Ichigo breaks all the rules. It seems to be catching."

(*Hey! You're acting like I'm a disease or something!*)

( _*Because you_ _ **are.**_ _A horrible one, that grows all over everyone you meet,*_ ) Uryuu responded, his mental voice flat. ( _*There's no other explanation for why I would hunt out loopholes just to_ _ **follow you.**_ _*_ )

(*Mean!*)

Urahara's amused laughter brought Uryuu back to the present, and he shot the man an exasperated look.

"Maa, maa, you just make such cute faces, my son!" Urahara proclaimed, as he fluttered his fan.

"Please tell me you aren't going to be as bad as Kurosaki-sensei," Uryuu muttered, as he carefully folded his hands in his lap in order to keep himself from fiddling with the empty tea cup in front of him.

He was alarmed to see a thoughtful expression cross Urahara's face, and a cold chill went down his spine. What had he just done?!

"Well, it would be a bit difficult to get a giant poster of your mother," Urahara mused, his eyes glinting with amusement. "But I could probably find a way to surprise you at every opportunity!"

Uryuu shivered. Kami, let the man not be serious about that!

"I am going to insist that you live here for a time at least," Urahara continued, the amusement dropping and his tone turning serious. "Your cover has you being a soul from the Rukongai, which means you'll have no experience with the Living World. While we can get away with you adapting quickly by saying you inherited my intelligence, that can't cover anything. All I ask is that you speak with me about your plans before you implement them, if you have the time. There may be some information you don't have, which could lead to a worse outcome than before if not taken into account."

Uryuu nodded slowly. He didn't like the idea of sharing his space with so many others, not after living in an apartment by himself for several years, but Urahara's reasoning was logical. "Very well. So long as you accept that I won't always be able to come to you first."

The twisted, bitter smile that crossed Urahara's face startled Uryuu, so out of place was it on the normally cheerful man. "Trust me, I know what it's like to have no time. All I ask is that you try."

"I will," Uryuu solemnly promised. He might be wary of Urahara, but the man was going out of his way to help him. He was certain there was at least one ulterior motive at play already, but that was okay. They both wanted Aizen's death, if for different reasons, and Uryuu had no problem being a hidden knife aimed at Aizen's heart.

"So!" Urahara chirped, his mood taking an abrupt one-eighty. "Decided on a name yet?"

Uryuu hesitated for a brief moment, then nodded. "I think… Kaito."

"Urahara Kaito," Urahara mused softly, as he tapped his fan on his chin. "It has a bit of a ring to it. Well then! I'll get started on your paperwork, and then to designing your gigai and that amulet I promised. In the mean time, you should probably hide down in the basement. Kuchiki-san shows up often enough that I'd rather not take the chance of her spotting you like this, if you have no plans on telling anyone who you are."

Uryuu ( _Kaito, he was Kaito, new-name-new-face-new-life. An ocean instead of the pouring rain. Kaito._ ) nodded his agreement. He rose from his seat as Urahara reached over and pulled aside a tatami mat to reveal the hidden trapdoor that led into the underground training room. The trapdoor shifted aside easily, revealing the hole and the huge ladder that led down into the depths.

Kaito hesitated, then glanced at Urahara and said, "I would rather not go back to school. At least… not right away."

Urahara made a thoughtful noise. "Well, I see no reason for it. I'll buy some books, and we can say I'm home schooling you if it ever becomes important. And being from the Rukongai, you'd not have much organized schooling. I think… yes. You'll be from one of the upper-middle districts. Poverty won't have defined your life, but you'll still have needed to work to feed yourself, and won't have had the time or resources to dedicate to the sort of schooling the Living World prizes. And for your peers here, hmm…"

"School avoidance," Kaito suggested after a moment, as he considered his options. His intelligence and nature had seen him top of his class, previously. Best to at least somewhat distance himself from that, even if he wasn't going to play stupid. Couldn't play stupid, not with a father like Urahara. "Combined with absent guardians before you took me in. No one to keep track or care if I went, and a haphazard dedication on my part to learning on my own."

Urahara eyed him carefully, then nodded in acceptance. "It does make it easier on my part to make your records, at least. Who remembers a kid that never shows up?"

"Thank you," Kaito said, as he committed the framework of his new life to memory. He would have to repeat it to himself often, just to cement it in his mind, but he was certain he wouldn't forget. For now, it was enough.

He descended down the ladder, into the vast chamber that seemed to stretch on forever. It still took his breath away, even though he had seen it several times. The idea that Urahara could create something like this, hidden under his tiny little shop, boggled the mind.

"I wonder if it actually takes up all this space," he mused aloud, as he employed a few hirenkyaku bursts to carry him away from the ladder. "Or if it's some kido effect."

(*Well, there's probably at least some kido involved,*) Ichigo spoke up. (*He did say he built the thing in a single day and night, though… obviously he was lying about the _when_ if this is here right now.* )

Kaito hummed thoughtfully, then sat down on the dusty ground and leaned back against a rock, staring up at the painted ceiling. He felt… so very drained. Not just physically exhausted, though that played a part, but mentally as well. He was lost, adrift in a time he had already lived through, forced to take another name and rebuild his life from nothing. Finding out that he wasn't even truly _alive_ anymore… just another wandering soul, stranded in a world that was no longer his.

Sleep drowned the world in black before his thoughts could spiral further down.

* * *

Uryuu ( _Kaito, he was Kaito_ ) awoke with a jolt, the feeling of eyes on him pulling him from his rest. His body protested the awkward position; his back was sore, his shoulders knotted, and his legs were so solidly asleep that Kaito was almost terrified to move them. It would be a new level of torture, he was certain.

Urahara was seated atop another rock, his hands toying with his fan as he waited for Kaito to gather himself.

"Oh good, you're awake!" Urahara chirped as soon as Kaito focused on him. "You didn't have to sleep down here. The back of the shop is private, after all!"

Kaito gave a tiny shrug as he started to massage life back into his legs, wincing at the growing feeling of pins and needles. "I didn't mean to."

"Hmm," Urahara hummed, as he eyed Kaito. He flicked his fan to point down at something laying on the ground at his side. "I finished your gigai while you were asleep. I'll need more time to make the amulet, so try not to get yourself knocked out of it in front of others, alright?"

"By who?" Kaito grumbled, as he carefully stood up and waited for his legs to steady. "As I recall, the only two knocking people out of their bodies around here were you and Kuchiki. So unless _you_ have plans…"

"My, so paranoid about your precious father!"

"A father you admitted that I've never _met_ before I was summarily abducted by a _talking cat_ ," Kaito replied flatly, as he finally took the few steps over to the gigai and stared down at it. It… really didn't look much different from his past self, Kaito was sure. Though the spiky, flaxen blond hair was a bit startling, and the lack of glasses made his face look… odd. "You realize I'm legally blind without my glasses, right?"

Urahara shrugged, as if such a thing hadn't even crossed his mind. "Well, I was already fiddling with your eye color, so why not that, too?"

Kaito narrowed his eyes and shifted his gaze between the flaxen haired gigai and the shopkeeper that had created it. With such a startling difference in certain aspects between himself and the gigai… "You realize people will start to question why the never see _your son_ out of his gigai."

The bright grin that crossed Urahara's face was in no way reassuring, and neither was the way his free hand reached up to tilt his hat down slightly before shifting it back up. "You wound me! Thinking your dear father wouldn't think of such a thing, honestly!"

"Urahara," Kaito growled, as he clung to his temper and resisted the urge to reach out and strangle the frustrating man.

"Maa, maa, why do you think it's taking me so long to make that amulet of yours?"

That was… both reassuring and a bit terrifying, Kaito had to admit. It was one thing to know that Urahara was a genius, a mad scientist who could create things that no one had ever seen before, but it was entirely another to _see_ that genius turned towards a purpose.

Urahara grinned brightly, as he flourished his fan and gave Kaito a small bow, acknowledging the understanding in Kaito's gaze without him having to say anything. "Do try not to lose it when I make it!"

With a sigh, Kaito knelt by the gigai and reached out towards it. He hesitated, hands partially sunk into the body's shoulders, before he gathered up his courage and slipped into it the way he had seen Ichigo slipping back into his own body.

It felt like slipping into a suit, all rigid lines and constricting fabric. He took a moment to just breathe, leaving his eyes closed and just focusing on little things, like moving his fingers and touching the dusty ground beneath him. The sensations reminded him a little of when he was wearing the sanrei glove, distant and dulled by a thin barrier between himself and the world.

"You'll get used to it," Urahara spoke up. "Give it a bit to synchronize with your spirit, and it'll feel just like your real body."

"This is… normal?" Kaito asked, as he slowly sat up and stared down at his hands, realizing only then that his skin tone was slightly different. Slanting a glance up at Urahara, he decided that the man had tweaked that to better match his own, continuing to play up the idea that Kaito had gained his mother's build and his father's coloration.

"I never could figure out how to work around the synchronization stage," Urahara admitted with a shrug. "Infusing some reiatsu into it first helps, but there's always a disconnect between soul and gigai in the beginning. It's made worse for you because I'm forcing your gigai to alter the way your reiatsu reads to others."

Silence settled over them, as Kaito stood and started to move around, testing the gigai and trying to settle into it. A proper spar would work better, he was certain, but he still felt so _tired_ , like he hadn't just slept for who-knows-how-long down here, and even longer back in Hueco Mundo.

(*You're going to have to watch your skill set,*) Ichigo spoke thoughtfully, then continued when Kaito sent a feeling of curiosity his way. (*You're posing as the son of a Shinigami, so all those Quincy skills you have will be out of place.*)

Kaito frowned, then reached up absently to touch his glasses, only to mentally curse when his finger touched the bridge of his nose instead of the metal he expected. That was going to take some getting used to.

(*I didn't realize how often you do that.*)

( _*It's a habit,*_ ) Kaito responded, as he rubbed at the side of his nose. ( _*One that most people with glasses have. It will be… odd to be without my glasses. I've had them almost as long as I can remember.*_ )

"Urahara, I'm going to need to learn shunpo," Kaito said, breaking the silence between them. "Ichigo's right, this fiction we're building will fall apart if I use my Quincy skills too blatantly."

A thoughtful look crossed Urahara's face, as he tapped his closed fan against his chin. "Well, I can ask Yoruichi to teach you. But I doubt you'll be able to keep all your skills under wraps forever."

"Then what do you suggest," Kaito bit out, as he turned to face Urahara and crossed his arms over his chest. "Because I'm not staying out of this mess, not when I can change things for the better."

Urahara held up his hands in surrender. "Hold on, now, I didn't mean it like that! I just meant that we need to come up with a reason _why_ you would have those skills. A simple answer would have your mother being a Quincy soul, and remembering some of her skills. She could have taught you the archery aspect at least; it would have given you access to another source of food, if you were good enough to hunt small game."

Kaito stiffened and looked away from Urahara, abruptly reminded of that _psycho_ who had _bragged to him_ about hunting down and experimenting on Quincy souls that entered Soul Society. If this fiction they were building had been truth, Urahara would have been lucky to find him still alive after all this time.

"Kaito..?"

He shook his head sharply, not wanting to speak his thoughts aloud. "It's nothing. That's fine. My past self won't like the idea of it, but I doubt he'd ever be happy with any story we could come up with."

(*Yeah, you were a bit of an asshole in the beginning.*)

( _*Thanks,*_ ) Kaito grumbled, though he knew the comment was warranted. He really hadn't given Ichigo a reason to like him in the beginning.

"Well, how about we go upstairs and introduce you to everyone!" Urahara chirped as he hopped down from the rock and strolled past Kaito towards the ladder leading up. "I did tell Tessai the truth, of course, but he's agreed to the story, so it'll all be fine!"

Reluctantly, Kaito followed Urahara back up into the shop proper, where the other three people who called the shoten home were gathered. He felt… nothing, as he stared at them. Jinta had always been a nuisance, and Ururu so shy she was nearly a non-entity the few times Kaito had visited previously. Even Tessai had mostly been just a polite, calm presence who served drinks and otherwise kept to himself. He didn't _know_ them, hadn't seen their fate in the future he had left. They were just familiar strangers, and it was something of a relief to realize that.

Urahara's hand touched his shoulder, giving him a gentle nudge forward so that he stood a step in front of Urahara. "Kaito, meet Tsukabishi Tessai, Tsumugiyo Ururu, and Hanakiri Jinta. Everyone, meet my son, Urahara Kaito!"

"Pleased to meet you," Kaito said, keeping both his tone and his bow polite. It wouldn't do to insult the people he was going to be spending time in close quarters with.

"Eh, whatever, you better not make a mess around here," Jinta grumbled, as he slunk out of the room and back outside.

"F-forgive him," Ururu stuttered softly, as she bowed deeply, her near-permanent blush growing darker thanks to Jinta's callous words. "I-it's nice t-to meet you!"

"Welcome to the Living World," Tessai added, with his own small bow.

"Tessai will show you to your room," Urahara told him airily, as he brushed past Kaito and headed out of the shop. "I'll be back later!"

"This way," Tessai said, as he led Kaito deeper into the store, barely pausing long enough for Kaito to remove his shoes. He slid the door open and indicated the room. "Urahara-san's room is across the hall from yours, and mine is next to his. Jinta and Ururu share a room next to yours."

Kaito slipped into the bare room, noting the built in closets along the wall and the tatami mats that covered the floor.

(*I guess you'll have to get used to sleeping on a futon,*) Ichigo said, as Kaito began investigating the closets. (*He's very traditional.*)

( _*So is Soul Society,*_ ) Kaito pointed out, as he found the closet that held his bedding. The rest of the closets were mostly empty, with only a few small things scattered around. Hopefully Urahara was going to buy some clothing for him while he was out, because the jinbei the gigai had been dressed in was clearly the man's own, and hung loosely on his frame. He was just glad Urahara preferred pants that only came down to his knees, otherwise he would have had to roll the legs up in order to move. ( _*If I'm supposed to be from there, this is what I'd be used to.*_ )

After a brief moment of debate, Kaito pulled the bedding from the closet and began to set the bed up. Maybe it was the fight with Aizen, or being sent back in time, but it felt like he hadn't slept at all despite having spent more of the past hours asleep than awake. The chance to sleep on a real bed was just too much to pass up; maybe then he would finally feel rested and awake.

He hesitated at the last minute, though, hand hovering over the belt that held the shirt closed. This was more than a shop, it was a _home_ , and _home_ meant _bath_.

Mind made up, Kaito turned around and left his room, going in search of Tessai. Sleep would be welcome, but a bath… that would be _glorious_.

* * *

"Good moooooorniiing, Kaito!"

Kaito sat up with a start, jerked out of his sleep by both the words and by Ichigo's violent reaction to them. As Ichigo filled his head with curses, Kaito just stared blankly at Urahara and tried to process the abrupt switch from sleep to wakefulness. The man was standing in the doorway, fan out and covering his lower face, but Kaito was certain there was a smirk hidden by that fan.

(*I. Am going. To _murder_ Hat'n'Clogs,* ) Ichigo snarled. (*Tell him that. And tell him that if he _dares_ try to act like Goat-face, I will have _no compunction_ against teaching you _exactly_ how to deal with annoying idiots this early in the goddamn morning.* )

Still entirely unsure of what was happening around him — why was Ichigo so furious, and Urahara so amused? — Kaito reluctantly played relay for Ichigo. "That was… probably not wise? Ichigo is threatening to kill you, now, and also to teach me 'exactly how to deal with annoying idiots this early in the goddamn morning'."

Urahara just laughed, waving the comments away with a casual flip of his fan. "Well now, we can't have _that_! I just thought you'd like to know that breakfast will be in a half hour! No need to become violent!"

(*There is every reason to become violent! The world doesn't need a clever version of Goat-face!*)

"Apparently Ichigo believes there is a reason," Kaito replied dryly, as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and only just stopped himself from reaching out to find his glasses. "Thank you, Urahara. I'll be out shortly."

"Of course!" Urahara then nudged a couple of bags further into the room with a foot. "Here you are, some fresh clothes. They should all be in your size."

Kaito watched as the man stepped back, sliding the shoji door closed as he left, then rose from the futon and moved to investigate the bags.

( _*Really?*_ ) Kaito asked with a sigh. The bags were full of jinbei, in all sorts of colors. Dark greens like Urahara wore, along with some dark blues in a variety of shades, a few reds, greys, even a deep purple. Most of them were plain, without any patterns to be seen, but a few of the blues and one grey had stripes, and…

( _*Oh hell no!*_ ) Kaito snarled, as he held up a jinbei covered in embroidered tigers. Shiro's raucous laughter echoed through his head, loud enough that he barely heard Ichigo's amusement laced voice.

(*Look at what was under it.*)

Almost dreading the answer, Kaito looked down, and just stared. Cheerful cartoon characters covered the entire thing, in bright, primary colors that stood out against the more subdued jinbei that Urahara had otherwise filled the bags with.

Kaito clenched his jaw, reminded himself of how _bad_ an idea it was to attempt to murder the person giving him a place in this timeline, and resolved to bury the two patterned jinbei deep in a closet and forget they existed.

(How had Urahara even found a child's jinbei in his size?!)

He would have to go shopping at some point, Kaito thought, as he unpacked the bags and folded the new clothes away into a closet. Jinbei were fine, even if he wasn't accustomed to wearing such things, and the three kimono and accessories that Urahara had bought would work well for any formal occasions, even if he couldn't think of an immediate need for them.

By the time everything was put away properly, and he was dressed and presentable, food was set out on the table and the other four residents of the shoten were gathered around waiting for him to arrive.

"Thank you for the clothes," Kaito said, as he sat at the open place.

"You're welcome. Can't have my precious newfound son looking like a vagabond, after all!" Urahara replied, as they all started to eat. The meal passed in mostly silence, broken only by Urahara reminding Jinta and Ururu about their chores for the day, before he turned back to Kaito and said, "You can do what you'd like for now. I'm still putting your papers in order, so try to avoid getting into trouble?"

Kaito nodded, then considered what he could do for the day. He was still feeling tired, drained in a way that left him wanting to do nothing more than just curl back up and go back to sleep.

"I'm… going to meditate a bit," Kaito admitted to Urahara, as he rose to allow Ururu to finish putting the table away. "I still feel drained."

"Hmmm." Urahara moved closer, peering at Kaito curiously. "Really? But your reiryoku reads at Captain level currently. I had thought… hmm…"

Kaito shifted awkwardly under the man's stare, taking a step back in an attempt to regain a bit of personal space. "Is that… a problem? I mean, for the gigai."

"No, no, it won't be a problem," Urahara reassured Kaito absently, as he fiddled with his fan and continued to stare thoughtfully at Kaito. "The gigai will adapt, and if it starts giving you problems just tell me. Well! If you're still feeling drained, I'll be sure to call you for lunch."

Kaito nodded, then retreated back to his room, glad that he could finally get away from Urahara's considering stare. Being the focus of such intense scrutiny was nerve wracking at the best of times, especially from someone who was capable of the things Kaito _knew_ Urahara could do.

He settled down on his futon and retreated into his mindscape. He came to in the same room that he had left his three spirits in earlier, when traveling from Hueco Mundo to the Living World.

Ichigo glanced over from his spot against the wall, amusement flaring in his gaze momentarily, before he went back to watching the steady rise and fall of Zangetsu's chest. The older spirit didn't look like he had moved at all, still in the same position that Kaito had shifted him into, and still as deeply asleep as before. Even Shiro didn't seem to have moved, though the doppleganger was sitting up and grinning toothily at him.

"The Old Man hasn't woken, yet," Ichigo said, as Kaito settled against the wall next to him. "And Shiro and I keep drifting in and out of sleep."

"Yeh, cause we're still recoverin', Aibo," Shiro replied around a yawn, as he propped his head up on one arm and stared at the two of them. "I dunno 'xactly what happened when that kidou exploded, but… we burned ourselves out. An' then I made it worse when I ran—"

"We wouldn't have survived if you didn't," Kaito cut in bluntly. "I know that. At least we're alive to be tired. And that's all it is, right?"

"Damn straight!" Shiro snarled, as he sat up and glowered at Kaito. "It's jes gunna take some time, some rest, an' real food. So no more filtering reishi, Koneko, ya got that?"

"All of which we can get here," Ichigo broke in, before Kaito could snap back at Shiro. "So I guess that tells us what we're going to be doing for the next while. Sorry, Uryuu, but I guess we probably shouldn't go out exploring the town just yet."

Kaito shook his head. He'd already figured that bit out for himself. With the way he was feeling, even a minor Hollow getting the drop on him might be dangerous, though he doubted one could kill him even now. Still, being wounded would only set his recovery back further, and that wasn't something he was willing to chance. Not when he didn't know how much time he had before Aizen made his move.

"You should probably get used to calling me Kaito," he reluctantly brought up. It was nice to hear his real name, but he couldn't afford to react to his past self's name. "Just in case you have to take control and get questioned."

Ichigo grimaced, then shrugged in resigned acceptance. "Yeah, you're right. So, what should we do? I know we have to rest, but can't we do anything?"

"Work on syncin' up by y'selves," Shiro muttered, as he laid his head back down, exhaustion creeping back up on him. "Y'were gettin' pretty good at the end of that fight wit' Aizen. Not takin' each other over, but jes workin' t'gether."

Kaito and Ichigo shared a look, as they considered it.

"It might be a step towards you getting bankai on your own," Ichigo offered thoughtfully. "Either way, I don't see why not."

"Alright," Kaito agreed willingly. He couldn't rely forever on Shiro and Ichigo to make up for his shortcomings, after all. Being able to use bankai on his own would be a relief, and something he was definitely looking forward to. It had already been proven to him how the lack of bankai was a detriment to his ability to face Captain-class fighters head on, especially when he couldn't rely on his Quincy skills to see him through.

He was determined. He would face Aizen as himself, not as a passenger in his own body.

* * *

Kaito found himself settling into a routine. Enforced meals with the rest of the Shoten residents, then time spent by himself in either his room or the underground training room while the others went about their day. Occasionally, Urahara would ask him to help clean up after a particularly busy day for the shop, but that was the only real interaction he had with anyone outside of meals.

He knew it couldn't last — Urahara's considering looks were enough to warn him of that — but he enjoyed the relative normalcy while he could. Even the pretense of a routine, of a _normal life_ , helped Kaito feel calmer and less stressed, and he found his exhaustion slipping away day by day until he almost felt _rested_ again.

So he was almost expecting something to happen to disrupt that when he came to the breakfast table that morning. Kaito arrived at the table to find a sixth place set out with a saucer and nothing else. Nor were any others sitting at the table yet, when Urahara was usually the first awake and waiting.

(*Looks like Hat'n'Clogs found Yoruichi.*)

Kaito made a noise of agreement as he folded his legs and settled into his place at the table. He hadn't expected the feline to appear quite so soon, but the sooner he started properly training, the sooner he could made a difference. So Kaito poured himself a cup of tea and settled in to wait for the others to arrive.

When he was about halfway through his cup, a black cat sauntered into the room and hopped up onto the table in front of the saucer. Golden eyes landed on him and fixed him with an unblinking stare, as the cat sized him up.

"So," Yoruichi started. "You're the kid I apparently absconded with from Soul Society."

Kaito raised his cup slightly in a half-mocking salute. "Indeed. And you're my abductor from all I ever knew."

Yoruichi laughed, her tail coiling around her legs and her eyes sliding partially closed. "I think I like you, brat. _Kisuke!_ Get in here, you coward! I'll play my damn part."

The tension that had coiled in Kaito's stomach upon Yoruichi's arrival relaxed, as she accepted the fake story they were crafting. There had always been a possibility that she wouldn't, that she would reject him and force them to create another reason for his existence.

" _Coward?_ " Urahara yelped, as he tumbled through the opened door and hastily took his spot at the table. Jinta and Ururu followed after him, confusion on their faces as they tried to make sense of what the others were talking about. "I was just letting the two of you meet alone!"

"Technically, I already know her," Kaito pointed out, as he watched Urahara pour some milk into Yoruichi's saucer. The feminine pronoun sounded odd to him in the face of the masculine voice coming from the cat, but he remembered what Ichigo had said, when that woman had plummeted from the sky to slam into Aizen. _Yoruichi_ , he had called her. "I may not have interacted with her much, but I _have_ met her."

"Ah! But not _this_ version!" Urahara chirped, as he served himself from the food that Tsukabishi set on the table. He then frowned at Jinta as the boy started to shove Ururu's hand aside to serve himself first. "Jinta…"

"Sorry boss," the boy grumbled.

Kaito shot Urahara a glower and served himself, not wanting to get into the technicalities of his situation over breakfast, and especially not when Jinta and Ururu were present. Not only was it far to early to debate over knowledge and versions, but the other two weren't entirely aware of Kaito's origin, and he wanted it to stay that way.

The customary silence settled over the breakfast table, as they all ate their meals and started to mentally prepare for the day.

"So you want to learn Shunpo?" Yoruichi spoke up, as she finished the last traces of milk in her saucer and settled back to give herself a bath. "That's what Kisuke told me."

Kaito nodded, setting his bowl back on the table and giving the cat his full attention. "Yes. I need to learn. I'm an acceptable swordsman, but without some method of fast movement…"

"Then we'll start today," Yoruichi decided, as she flicked her tail and jumped from the table. "Things are starting to heat up around here, it's best that you get as much practice as possible."

"Ah, I almost forgot!" Urahara spoke up, as he rummaged through his sleeves for a moment, before pulling out a silver chain with a coin sized pendant dangling from it. He tossed it to gently to Kaito. "That should keep you safe, even in your spirit form. Try not to lose it!"

He snatched it out of the air and examined it, feeling the light pressure of Urahara's reiatsu emanating from the entire thing. The pendant was just as silver as the chain, and was inscribed with the kanji for protection and luck along the edges, with a koi in the center.

(*Well, at least it doesn't look terrible,*) Ichigo commented, as Kaito pocketed the necklace.

"All done? Then let's get to work." Yoruichi settled in front of the trap door to the training ground, and waited patiently for Kaito to lift the mat and open the door, before she leapt down.

"Hai, hai," Kaito murmured, as he followed her down the ladder. Even after all the time he'd spent in the room, he was still wary of just… jumping down the way she had. Perhaps if he was free of the gigai first, he would try it, but he still found the fake body a bit uncomfortable at times.

The second he set foot on the ground of the training room, he had the very _disturbing_ sensation of being shoved free of the gigai from behind. Kaito wheeled about, a snarl on his face, and only just kept himself from lashing out at Urahara.

"Well, how else do you expect to train as a Shinigami?" Urahara asked in amusement, his fan flicking out to cover his lower face as his cane settled back on the ground.

"A bit more warning would have been nice!" Kaito grumbled, as he knelt to pull free the pendant Urahara had just given him. At least putting it on now would prevent him from forgetting about it until the worst possible moment. The chain slipped over his head and settled around his neck, the pendant a small weight against his skin as he tucked it under his shirt to prevent it from being seen by others. Instantly, his vision blurred, and Kaito reluctantly pulled his glasses off, setting them down on the chest of the gigai.

That drew his attention to his attire, though, and Kaito frowned at the slightly tattered, and distinctly _Quincy,_ clothing that he was still wearing. "Some clothes wouldn't go amiss either, I suppose."

"But of course! Anything for my dear son," Urahara responded, as he flicked his fan closed and tucked it away in his sleeve again.

"I will never get used to that," Kaito grumbled, as Urahara left the training ground, leaving him alone with Yoruichi. He ran a hand through his hair, grimacing at the slightly spiky texture that it still had even with the disguise that was woven into the pendant.

"It's not like you need to immediately," Yoruichi spoke, her voice distinctly _female_ this time, letting Kaito know that the cat had transformed back into a woman. "Kisuke's story has you not knowing him until now."

Kaito turned around, wondering at Ichigo's spike of alarm, and promptly felt heat flood his cheeks. Hastily, he turned his head to the side, averting his eyes from the _very naked woman_ across from him, and barked out, "Put some damn clothes on!"

"Awww, but you're so _adorable!_ " Yoruichi exclaimed, as she sauntered closer to him, her movements enough to draw his gaze back to her against his will.

Kaito squeezed his eyes shut, and pinched the bridge of his nose. " _This_ is how you look when you transform?! If I really _was_ some poor soul from the Rukongai, I'd probably be traumatized for _life_ because of you!"

She laughed right next to his ear, and Kaito felt like he would never stop blushing. She was so close to him that he could feel her reiatsu brushing against his, and he took a large step back, trying to regain his equilibrium.

"But you're _Kisuke's_ son! He's always rolled with the punches," Yoruichi said with another laugh, as she finally accepted defeat and started to move away.

"Probably because he has no other choice," Kaito retorted. "Did you ever give him a chance to do anything _but_ be as crazy as you?"

"Hmmmm. Nope!" She cheerfully admitted.

Kaito cracked an eye open as he heard her returning, hoping that she had at least put something on, but ready in case she hadn't. When he saw her wearing the same style of outfit that she had been wearing the last time he saw her, Kaito allowed his hand to drop back to his side, even if he couldn't hide the blush still staining his cheeks. That had been… far more than he ever wanted to see.

A dangerous smirk crossed her face, as she started to circle Kaito. "Now then, let's see how fast you actually are!"

Kaito bit back a yelp, as she just _vanished_ and reappeared right in front of him. Her hand reached out and tousled his hair, her grin growing wider when he tried to knock her hand away. Shaking off his surprise, Kaito leapt away and vanished in a burst of hirenkyaku.

"I thought you were here to learn shunpo?" Yoruichi asked from his left, amusement creeping through her voice as she tugged on his hair lightly. "That wasn't shunpo, my silly student!"

"A bit of instruction would be nice!" Kaito snarled, as he batted her arm aside again and darted away.

"It's just pure speed," Yoruichi retorted, still next to him despite his efforts. "Hohou pushed to its limit."

Kaito narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Hohou pushed to its limit, she had called it — was it really that simple? Ichigo had been using it when they were fighting Aizen together, so if he could remember how that felt, remember how his friend had _moved_ …

Carefully, he reinforced his body and pushed himself forward, striving to cover distance the same way Ichigo had.

"Better!" Yoruichi said, as she patted him on the head. "You've got the idea, now, so let's get practicing!"

"Must you constantly play with my hair?" Kaito grumbled, as he knocked her hand aside _again._

Her cheerful laughter was his answer, as he felt Yoruichi tug on his hair again. "You're it!"

(*Better get moving,*) Ichigo suggested, as Kaito remained stationary, dumbfounded by the playful nature Yoruichi was displaying. It was… jarring, hearing her laugh so freely, as she toyed with him all in the name of training. Even the banter she had exchanged with Urahara, in that undone future, had an edge to it, an underlying seriousness.

Another tug on his hair snapped Kaito out of his surprise, and he leaped forward, jaw clenched. He would show that damn Shinigami!

* * *

"You're getting better," Yoruichi praised him, as she hopped up onto a rock next to where he sat. "Nowhere near fast enough to catch me, but you've definitely improved!"

"Thanks, I think," Kaito murmured, as he tried to get his breathing back under control. Shunpo relied on an entirely different concept than hirenkyaku, and his legs were burning with the ache of it. He still found himself slipping into hirenkyaku when surprised, but a few more days of training like this and he thought he'd have the beginning of some control over his responses.

Yoruichi laughed, then jumped down and sauntered back towards the ladder. "Well! I feel like food and then a nap. We'll train some more tomorrow."

He waved a hand absently, too tired to do much more than lean against a rock and stare up at the ceiling again. Though at least he didn't feel worn to a thread, just exhausted from training. A few minutes of rest and he'd be able to get up and make his way to the surface, before Tsukabishi got it into his head to follow through with his threat of dragging Kaito to meals if he tried to skip.

(*I wonder what's going on outside,*) Ichigo spoke up.

Kaito shrugged. He hadn't given it much thought, too caught up in finding his balance and sleeping, but now that they were mostly recovered… ( _*I don't know. We could ask Urahara, I guess. I'm still not sure I want to… well.*_ )

No matter how much it felt like cowardice, the idea of venturing out into Karakura filled him with hesitance. The idea of seeing Ichigo, whole and hale, clawed at his mind. He _wanted to_. He _needed to_ , if only just to reassure himself that _things could still be changed_. But at the same time…

(*Yeah, I get it.*)

This wasn't _his_ Ichigo. This Kurosaki didn't know him from a random resident, and while he could rebuild that friendship, did he really _want_ to?

Ichigo, _his Ichigo_ , settled into silence, a steady presence that helped Kaito wrestle his breathing back under control. The darkness creeping along the edges of his vision slowly retreated, and Kaito leaned forward, putting his head into his hands as he tried to just _breathe_. He could never tell when one of these episodes was going to strike, when the panic and fear would just overwhelm him, leave him paralyzed and barely able to breathe, with memories ( _blood-death-fear-agony_ ) playing like a movie he couldn't shut off, couldn't mute, couldn't _look away from._

"Back with us?"

Kaito shot to his feet, ignoring the protests of his legs, his bow materializing in his hand. He had two arrows forged and aimed straight at Urahara's chest before he even realized who had spoken.

Urahara remained seated on the ground, his hands carefully open and resting on his knees as he stared up at Kaito.

Reluctantly, Kaito allowed his weapons to dissolve back into reishi, as he slowly sat back down.

The thoughtful look in Urahara's eyes made Kaito uncomfortable, and he found himself unable to hold the man's gaze, instead looking off into the distance.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Urahara asked into the silence, his tone light. When Kaito said nothing, when the silence resumed between them, heavy and weighted, Urahara spoke up again. "It's normal, you know. Reliving something like that, questioning yourself, thinking 'if only' or 'I should have'. Jumping at the smallest thing—"

"Wanting to kill someone?" Kaito asked, his voice low.

"Mmm, yes." Urahara agreed. "Wanting revenge, wanting to make them hurt… or wanting to make yourself hurt. Those are pretty common reactions too."

Kaito frowned, his gaze drifting down to the dusty rock at his side. Did he want to hurt himself? He… didn't think so. Gin's words, mocking and cruel, about throwing himself head first into combat without regard to the life he held in trust… those had cut deep. Kaito had spent some time considering them while in the Dangai, and resolved to never again act so heedless.

Besides, hurting himself would only hurt his ability to see Aizen dead.

"Why do you…" _care_ , Kaito bit the word off, finished his sentence another way, "Know all this?"

"Because I've been there," Urahara admitted freely. "Because I've seen other people there. Because I've seen what happens when things like this get ignored, and it's never pretty."

"You've _been there?_ " Kaito snarled as anger flared through him, a rush of rage that shocked Ichigo into silence and left Kaito on his feet, dao materialized and point resting firmly on Urahara's throat. "You've _**been there?!**_ Ichigo _died_ because I was too _goddamn slow and too goddamn weak!_ I thought I could take on _any of those bastards_ , and not only do I have to be saved by that _goddamn clown freak_ , but then Ichigo is killed _right in front of me!_ "

Urahara's calm gaze, the understanding light in his eyes, it all drove Kaito further into his rage. How _dare_ that man sit there, just _accepting_ being held as sword point like that! How _dare_ he just _listen_ , as a line of blood trickled down his neck from where Kaito's blade had cut him.

"And then I find I've managed to prevent even the _chance_ of Ichigo moving on properly! But does that really help? _**No!**_ Because even _with_ Ichigo as part of me, _**I'm still too goddamn slow and too goddamn weak to do anything!**_ " Kaito glared down at Urahara, fighting the urge to just… strike. To make the man _hurt_. To make Urahara _stop looking at him like that._ "So even though I promised to take care of everything, Ichigo still has to keep me _alive_ , and I can't even manage to handle _one goddamn traitor captain on my own_ , and…"

Kaito bit his lip, focusing on the pain to keep the tears at bay. The rage drained out of him in a rush, leaving him feeling empty and so very, very tired. He crumpled to the ground, letting his sword dissipate as he buried his face back into his hands. Ichigo remained silent in his mind, a quiet support that hurt almost more than the hollow feeling in his chest. Even Shiro and the Old Man settled, extending threads of support to him that finally sent him over the edge into tears. Tears that fell silently, as he bit back the sobs and tried to muster the energy to stop crying in front of Urahara.

An arm settled over his shoulders, and Urahara's reiatsu coiled around him like a big cat, warm and dangerous. "Crying's pretty normal, too, no matter how much we'd rather deny it."

"Did you..?"

"Cry? Yeah." Urahara paused a moment, then Kaito felt him shrug. "Sometimes I still do, after a bad nightmare. There are just some things that hurt more than others, but it gets better. Slowly, but it does. You just have to take one day at a time, and set yourself goals to accomplish that are within reach."

"It won't ever get better," Kaito snarled, though his words lacked heat. The empty feeling in his chest just made it so difficult to muster up the energy for real emotion.

"Won't it?" Urahara asked. "What evidence do you have that it won't?"

"What part of 'Ichigo's _dead_ and it's _my fault_ ' don't you understand?"

(*Hey! No! It's damn well not your fault, and I resent you saying that!*) Ichigo snapped, stirred from his silence by Kaito's words. (*I made the choice to fight Ulquiorra on my own, and I underestimated his strength. Those are _my_ failings and I won't have you taking that onto yourself.* )

"But…" Kaito murmured aloud, as he struggled to find an argument and failed. Ichigo's reiteration of Zangetsu's reassurance from so long ago eased a knot that had only been loosened by the Old Man's original words. "I'm still weak…"

"Then grow stronger," Urahara said. "You've already started that, by resting and healing, and now by learning from Yoruichi. A step forward is still a step forward, no matter how small. You know how the traitors fight, now forge a path to a future where you can win."

(*Ask him for a tenshintai. We don't have time to get your bankai the usual way, so we'll just do it the way I did.*)

Kaito scrubbed away the last of his tears and gathered his composure as best he could. He still felt empty, numb to the world around him, but… Ichigo's idea was a good one. "I need bankai. Ichigo… Ichigo suggests I ask you for a tenshintai."

For a moment, Kaito was afraid Urahara would deny him. But eventually the man nodded and said, "It will take me a week to build one. Take this time to learn everything you can from Yoruichi, because you'll need it."

* * *

 **Waa! I'm sorry! Real life devoured me whole and only spat me back out today. Next chapter should still be on schedule, even if I'm having trouble getting it written because it just... doesn't want to be written. Because things happened and I ended up having to restructure the order of all the other scenes I had written.  
**

 **Also, no, Uryuu/Kaito is _not_ going to turn into a whiny mess, he's just in a bad place right now. The sheer amount of everything that was thrown at him in short order (while blunted by the three months in the dangai) is being compounded by being back in time. I'm not going to pretend that I'm any sort of expert on PTSD and ASD (Acute Stress Disorder, which is a bit more accurate to what Kaito has, since the symptoms have only just begun to show), but it _is_ a natural reaction to everything he's been through, especially seeing Ichigo dying in front of him. **

**And school avoidance is an interesting concept, and isn't (precisely) illegal from what I've been able to discover. Japan's education laws only require that adults see to it that children attend school, but makes no mention about a child's obligation to attend school. So adults could get in trouble if their children aren't being educated, but the kids can't be. (At least that's what I've managed to gather. Still, it's pretty neat.)**

 **Ja ne!**


	10. First Meetings and Earning Trust

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and those people/companies that publish Bleach. I own nothing except my meagre attempts at playing in his sandbox.

Warnings: Pretty much everybody's mouth, described violence (it IS Bleach, after all) Also unbetaed

I'm not 100% on this chapter. In fact, I rather cringe at bits of it, considering how hard it was to write and edit, but I've given up fussing.

( _Everything's green_ ) - Subconscious flow of thoughts  
( _*Why is everything green?*_ ) - Uryuu actively thinking  
(*Because it is.*) - Ichigo actively thinking  
( ***Who th'hell cares?!*** ) - Shiro actively thinking  
( _*Peace, hollow.*_ ) - Old Man Zangetsu actively thinking

* * *

"You know, if you keep hiding out in here, Tessai won't hesitate to drag you out."

Kaito looked up from the books he had been studying and just waited for Urahara to get to the point of his visit. He knew he had retreated from the others of the shoten after his uncomfortable talk with the man a few days ago, but had he finally pushed Urahara to the limit of his patience?

It wasn't as if he had completely retreated, either. He still ate meals with the others, still trained with Yoruichi every morning, still helped out after the shop was closed if it was asked of him, but… even the limited amount of socializing he had done outside of those times just felt like too much effort.

Numbness still hovered on the edges of his senses, coating everything in a flat grey that left him tired and unwilling. He only felt _alive_ during his morning training and evening fight with Shiro or Ichigo in his mindscape. Those two points gave him an anchor to work out from; combined with the books that Urahara had presented to him the day after their talk and his own stubborn nature, he was determined to work through this and come out the other side.

"There's going to be a live filming of Don Kanonji's show soon," Urahara said without further prompting. "Ururu loves the show, and Jinta tries to pretend that he doesn't, so they'll probably ask if we can go see it."

Kaito sucked in a breath, as he tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling blankly. He remembered that show, remembered standing there and watching Ichigo mess around while the demi-Hollow became a Hollow became a _threat_ to the entire crowd. That ineptitude, the time it took for Ichigo to kill such a simple, newborn beast… that had been what had truly set his teeth on edge about his classmate. True, he had known ichigo was a Shinigami before that point, but it was _then_ that he got to see exactly how rough around the edges the other teen way.

"Will you be alright to go?" Urahara asked, breaking through Kaito's thoughts. The man's voice was light, but a touch of concern curled around the edges, and his gaze was steady on Kaito.

(*We don't have to go,*) Ichigo offered. (*I handled it just fine before, and… I guess you were there too? Ahaha… I never noticed you…*)

( _*Ichigo, until I confronted you, you didn't even know I was in your_ _ **class**_ _. Forgive me if I'm not surprised you didn't see me there.*_ )

Ichigo's sheepish apology brought a hint of a smile to Kaito's lips. His friend's inability to remember names and faces was, frankly, hilarious at the extremes he took it too. Months in the same classroom with the other boy, and it took a fight for their life for the other to actually remember him. Of course, he hadn't been amused back then, had felt that Ichigo was purposely snubbing him which only drove his ire higher, but… looking back? Yeah, it was pretty hilarious.

(*We could use this to catch my past self's interest?*) Ichigo hesitantly suggested. (*I know you've been chewing over how to get involved.*)

He could, that was true. Kaito glanced to the side at Urahara, who was standing patiently at the door of his room, betraying nothing but calm as he waited for Kaito to give his answer. It all depended upon what Urahara did during the show, of course, but even being there in the man's company would catch Kuchiki's attention.

But the question remained. Did he feel capable of it?

Ichigo held his peace, neither urging Kaito on nor holding him back, just… letting him make up his own mind.

It was that, more than anything, that decided him. Ichigo was right, this was a perfect opportunity to start getting involved, and other than being a point of frustration there wasn't anything else wrapped up in the show that made him shy away from the thought.

"Alright," Kaito agreed, as he nodded at Urahara. "I should be fine. Kurosaki and… my past self will be there, but… I should be fine."

Urahara's gaze sharpened for a moment, before he nodded once, his jovial mask slipping back in place as his fan snapped out to shield the lower half of his face. "Sounds good then! Come along, dinner was being set out when I left to find you, so the others will be getting anxious to eat!"

Kaito followed Urahara out of his room and to the table, where dinner was indeed set out. Jinta shot him an unimpressed look, clearly grumpy at having to wait for Kaito and Urahara before he got to eat, while Ururu gave him a shy smile and a quiet 'good evening'.

He nodded in response to Ururu's greeting, then settled into his spot and served himself food, letting the chatter of the others wash over him as he ate. It had been awkward the first few times he had sat down; Kaito had almost expected either stony silence or attempts from everyone to draw him into conversation. Instead, they were content to talk around him, listening when he spoke up but otherwise willing to just leave him to himself. It was… comfortable in a way he'd never experienced before.

"A-ano, Urahara-san," Ururu spoke up into a moment of silence. Her blush darkened slightly at the attention she gathered by doing so, since she was normally almost as silent as Kaito at the table, but she forged on. "Uhm, I heard… I heard that there's going to be a live filming of Don Kanonji's show here soon! So, uhm, can… can we go?"

"Ooooh? You want to go?" Urahara asked, as he tapped his chin with his fan. "Well, I don't see why not! We'll make an evening of it, and all go together."

(*You know, I really thought he was just using the kids as an excuse to be around when Rukia told me about his reason for being there,*) Ichigo admitted, as he thought back. (*But, it really does look like those two are actively interested.*)

( _*Not everything revolves around you, Ichigo,*_ ) Kaito replied, amused at Ichigo's thoughts. He honestly wasn't surprised that Ururu and Jinta wanted to go — that crowd had been _huge_ , and there were so _many_ people that enjoyed Don Kanonji's antics. Even, Kaito admitted with a touch of embarrassment, himself. Why else would he have gone the first time around, before he was even fixated on proving Ichigo incompetent?

Ichigo's snort of disbelief had Kaito wryly accepting the irony of that statement. Perhaps this event hadn't been part of Aizen's grand scheme — and Kaito truly didn't know how many events were actually orchestrated by that traitor — but so many other things had been caused either directly or indirectly by Ichigo's actions that this single thing was just a drop in a bucket.

"That includes you, Kaito-kun," Urahara said, a bright grin on his face. If Kaito hadn't _just_ had a conversation with the man about this exact topic, he would have thought this the first time Urahara had brought it up to him. "You need to get out more, and this will be a perfect opportunity to do so!"

Kaito sighed, as he caught sight of Ururu's pleading look and Jinta's sullen glower out of the corner of his eye. Clearly, the actually thought there was a chance Urahara wouldn't get his way with this, and so spoil their night. "Fine. But I'll have no part in any chaos that you create."

"What, little ol' me?" Urahara pouted at Kaito, one hand pressed against his chest as if wounded by Kaito's words. "I'm just a mere humble, handsome shopkeeper! The very idea that I'd create chaos, really! Children these days."

"Maybe if you didn't act like a child that would carry more weight," Yoruichi piped up. "Really, Kisuke. You'd think Kaito-kun was older than you, the way you act."

As Urahara squawked and protested, and Yoruichi kept ribbing her old friend, Kaito just sat back, cradling a cup of tea in his hands and watching the free entertainment.

The countdown had begun.

* * *

The rest of the week passed in a blur of training and attempting to prepare himself. Every night he retreated to the rooftop, practicing his reiatsu control until he could once more sense beyond his own reserves without having to call up spirit ribbons or concentrate on nothing but sensing. Kaito spent hours every night, just staring up at the dark sky and familiarizing himself with the reiatsu of his friends, and his past self, all over again. Their peaceful, steady presences helped to ground him further in the present, even as their steadily growing reserves told him time was running out.

Even with nights of effort, Kaito found himself hesitating at the edge of the Urahara Shoten's property line, as Urahara and the other three started to make their way down the sidewalk towards the show.

Clinging to the proof that Kurosaki was _alive_ , that all his friends were _safe_ , had done nothing to help him face the unblemished Karakura. In fact, he'd mostly ignored the town around him, even when he settled on the rooftop to practice. Recovery had seemed so much more important, and then training took its place as his crutch, as he continually justified reason after reason why he couldn't leave the shoten just yet. Now, hovering on the edge of the property line, Kaito felt as if he had been thrown head first into ice cold water and told to swim ashore alone.

He was a stranger here, with no place but what Urahara deigned to give him, and suddenly he just wanted to retreat back into the shoten and let events play out as they would. Surely if he told Urahara about important events, the man could handle everything himself?

Urahara tilted his head back, a knowing glint in his visible eye, and Kaito clenched his teeth in frustration and resignation.

A few large strides had him caught up with the group, and he squared his shoulders and tucked his hands away in the long sleeves of his shirt to hide the slight trembling he could feel starting. He could do this. He _would_ do this. Urahara already had his own burdens to carry, and it wasn't right to offload his own onto the man who had already opened his home to him.

(*How much should we change, anyway?*) Ichigo asked thoughtfully. It was a question they had both asked many times over the past few days, but never really discussed beyond 'enough to save everyone'. And now their time had run out, leaving them with only a single vague directive to go by.

( _*How much do you_ _ **want**_ _to?*_ ) Kaito asked as he silently followed the group. ( _*So much of what you went through this early helped you grow, didn't it?*_ )

(*Yeah, I guess. But a few less life-threatening experiences and a bit more actual training wouldn't go amiss. Like your ridiculous challenge. That wasn't very safe for anyone.*)

Kaito winced at the reminder of his own hubris. ( _*Sorry. I… really have no excuse for that.*_ )

The roar of a crowd drew him out of his head, and Kaito refocused on the world around him. The large crowd surrounded Kanonji's stage, just like he remembered it, their raucous and excited cheers filling the air with a white noise that was stunning in its volume. He had forgotten exactly how _loud_ this event had been, and stuck close to Urahara's side as Tsukabishi forged them all a path through the gathering to the front. Memory had him glancing to his right, where his past self stood at the rope, watching in avid fascination.

A chill crawled down his spine, as he stared at the living proof of his doubled existence.

(*Huh, y'know, I think you do look different enough that no one will comment,*) Ichigo mused, as they both took in Ishida's straight, pitch black hair and square glasses. Even their clothing was such a pointed difference, drawing attention away from their remaining similarities. (*The glasses alone makes your face look different. Add the hair in…*)

Ishida turned his head, fixing them with a narrow, annoyed look before dismissing them for the moment.

Kaito swallowed and looked away, trying to banish the disorientation that had come of staring into a face that _should be but wasn't_ his. Already he was starting to accustom himself to his new looks, blond hair and pale eyes and no glasses and all, and to see _his real face_ looking back at him with such an expression on it…

(*You're such a pleasant person,*) Ichigo commented wryly.

( _*I didn't have much use for… anyone, really, at this point. Especially Shinigami,*_ ) Kaito admitted, as he focused on Don Kanonji on the stage, as the man began to torment the poor spirit. He hesitated, wavering between getting involved and just letting it all play out, before the choice was taken from his hands.

Kurosaki's leap over the barrier was just as startling to watch a second time as it was the first, even if he had been expecting it to happen. It took his breath away, as the disorientation roared back full force. Kurosaki — alive, well, blessedly _whole_ — was overlaid with the pale, broken body of Ichigo. Kaito felt frozen, his fingernails digging furrows into his arms. All he could see was blood, blood and sand and Ulquiorra's emotionless visage. The roar of the crowd swelled in his ears, white noise that became the _snap-hiss_ of lightning and his own panting breaths.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder. Reiatsu coiled loosely about his body. Kaito jerked away, sweeping an arm up to knock the person's grip aside, and settled into a stance before his vision cleared enough see Urahara standing in front of him.

Urahara's gaze was heavy, as he examined Kaito carefully before pulling his reiatsu back under control. As Kaito picked up the shards of his own control, he noticed the shimmer of a kidou fading out of existence around them. An awkward silence settled between them, with even Ururu and Jinta watching him warily from Tsukabishi's side.

Kurosaki's frustrated shouting drew Kaito's attention once more to the struggling teen, and he had to force himself to keep breathing as the world started to fade again. He could not… he _would not_ let himself be crippled, unable to face the past version of his best friend.

"My, so rash!" Urahara mused aloud as the man came to stand next to Kaito. His tone was light, a teasing lilt to his words that he was clearly directing at Kurosaki's actions, but his gaze remained focused on Kaito. "I'm glad my son has learned to reign himself in!"

"Against all odds," Kaito retorted, as he clung to the conversation like a lifeline. "With a father like you, the odds are certainly against it."

"Ouch! Such a cruel son I have!" Urahara pressed a hand to his chest and gave Kaito a wounded look. When Kaito just gave him an unimpressed look in response, Urahara grinned and started making his way through the crowd to where Ichigo was being restrained.

Not wanting to be separated, especially after his episode, Kaito followed. Every moment he spent in the roaring crowd, hearing the shrieks of the tormented spirit, drove a spike deeper into his mind. It was all he could do to cling to reality, to Ichigo's murmured reassurances and Shiro's growled threats. His back _itched_ , and a glance over his shoulder revealed Ishida's piercing stare, fixed firmly on them, though his past self wasn't yet doing anything but watch.

The world felt surreal, like he was just watching a movie play out as Urahara reached out with his cane to shove Kurosaki free of his body, sending the teen tumbling across the stage.

"Ow, dammit! Who the hell did that?!" Kurosaki yelled, as he picked himself up and glowered at his body, then at the people gathered behind it and the guards.

"Huh? Kisuke!" Kuchiki gasped, as he turned as best she could in the clutches of the guards to see who had shoved Kurosaki free so suddenly.

The look of shock on her face was a bit much, Kaito mused as he took it all in. It wasn't like there were any _other_ people around with a habit of shoving people free of their bodies. Didn't she get most of her supplies from Urahara? Why was it so surprising that he'd be able to use them himself, then?

"Hiya!" Urahara chirped, as he flicked his fan open and waved at the two shocked people. "Shouldn't you be doing something right now? Go get him, Kurosaki-kun!"

With Kurosaki back on task and arguing futilely with Don Kanonji, Kaito exhaled slowly, listening to Urahara and Kuchiki's banter with only half an ear.

( _You can't affect anything,_ ) a part of him whispered. ( _Nothing you do will help. Nothing you do will change a thing._ )

Kaito dug his fingernails deeper into his arms, feeling the first drops of blood well to the surface as he tried to banish the insidious voice. It was wrong. Things _could_ be changed. Just by _being here_ he was changing things. He…

(*Kaito!*) Ichigo barked, finally breaking through Kaito's spiraling thoughts. (*Look at Urahara.*)

Shocked into obeying, Kaito yanked his gaze from Kurosaki's flailing on stage and looked over at Urahara. The man was still bantering with Kuchiki, his fan covering the lower half of his face and his hat tilted down over his eyes, but his gaze was focused on Kaito, not Kuchiki, though he doubted she could see that from where she stood. Urahara tilted his head slightly and lifted his cane an inch or two from the ground, a questioning light in his eyes.

For one breathless, heart-stopping moment, Kaito wanted to refuse. To deny himself the chance because _what if he failed?_ What if he _made everything worse?_

(If he did nothing, Kurosaki would die on that rooftop, and Ishida would be cursed. If he did nothing, it would all just repeat, again and again and again. Until a version of himself finally took a step forward.)

He took that step.

Like a striking snake, Urahara lifted his cane and shoved it into Kaito's chest the moment Kaito nodded in agreement. Kaito stumbled free, caught himself against the stage, and took a breath of air that suddenly felt so _free_. The world came into focus, his hands steadied, and suddenly everything seemed so clear. The looming shadows of Hueco Mundo were banished back into the depths of his memories and his spiraling thoughts ceased.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw annoyance flash across Ishida's face, before the teen schooled his features again.

Well, that was _one_ person's attention gained! Now hopefully Ishida didn't decide to fixate on him, because that would just be… awkward.

"Kisuke! What the hell?!" Kuchiki was shouting behind him, as Kaito hopped up onto the stage.

"Maaah, I trust my son!"

Kaito took in the situation at a glance. Don Kanonji's cane finally came free, tearing away the spirit's chain, and moments later an echoing _boom_ erupted to announce the demi-Hollow's disappearance. Kaito couldn't help the amusement he felt at seeing Kurosaki's confused expression for a second time, it was just such a priceless moment.

(*Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Did you know that happened?*)

( _*No,*_ ) Kaito admitted, as he bounded past the confused teen and used shunpo to flit up to the rooftop where he remembered the Hollow reforming. ( _*It was a surprise to me, too, that first time. But your face!*_ )

Ichigo's only response was to snort and give the impression of a glower.

Kaito materialized his dao as the Hollow began to form, shifting his stance and preparing to strike the being down as soon as the mask formed. ( _*Ichigo?*_ )

(*This was almost as dangerous as your challenge,*) Ichigo stated, as they watched the Hollow's body slowly form. (*And really, the only thing I learned here was that Kanonji's a good-natured idiot, demi-Hollows disappear before becoming Hollows, and big swords suck in small places.*)

Kaito had absolutely no words to respond to that. He hadn't actually known what had happened once Ichigo dragged Kanonji away inside the hospital, but if the awkward embarrassment he felt from his friend was telling, then it had to have been _hilarious._ He was almost sorry this Ichigo apparently wasn't going to experience that where he could see.

But… well, if Ichigo was okay with his past-self not going through it, then who was Kaito to contradict?

The newly formed Hollow's head emerged, and released the same chilling scream that Kaito remembered so well. He readied himself to strike, as the mask formed in a rush of white bone and flaring power, then lunged forward the moment it hardened.

The Hollow _keened_ in pain, as it lunged aside at the last minute and Kaito's sword lopped off the rightmost point of the mask, instead of cleaving it cleanly in half.

"Tch," Kaito grumbled, as he lunged after the weak creature and finished it off wit ha vicious strike to the mask. He didn't even feel any resistance against his blade as it sheared cleanly through everything in its path.

The body tumbled off the edge of the roof, falling back down to the stage where Kanonji and Kurosaki were standing, both of them staring up at him in shock. Kaito carefully smoothed out his expression as he glanced down at the two, then out at the crowd, trying to spot Urahara.

He finally found him, standing at the back of the crowd, hat pulled down over his face and fan out to shield his mouth. With the distance and the way Urahara was standing, Kaito couldn't get a read of Urahara's reaction to his actions.

(*He asked if we wanted to get involved,*) Ichigo pointed out. (*He's a genius mad-scientist and over a hundred years old. If he didn't see this coming, I'll eat my sword.*)

With that amusing mental image in his head, Kaito allowed his sword to return to reishi and leapt from the roof back to the stage, landing to the side of the disintegrating Hollow so that its body was between him and Kurosaki.

"Eh? Who the hell are you?!" Kurosaki exclaimed, as he drew his sword and pointed it at Kaito.

Kaito snorted, folded his arms back into his sleeves to keep from doing something he'd regret, and arched an eyebrow at Kurosaki. "Such manners. Do you always point your sword at someone that helps you?"

"Wh— hey! Don't dodge the question!"

( _*Ichigo?*_ )

(*Uh, yeah?*)

( _*Both of our past selves were idiots,*_ ) Kaito concluded, to Ichigo's amused, if reluctant, agreement.

"Hey, what's happening?" Kanonji interrupted them, as he shoved past Kurosaki and looked at the crumbling Hollow. "The monster's skin is crumbling away…"

Kaito frowned, as he glanced down at the Hollow as it returned momentarily to the soul that Kanonji had been tormenting earlier. He had forgotten that some Hollows fragmented away like that, hadn't known that this one did so, hadn't known that Kanonji _didn't know_ about Hollows before this moment.

"It can't be," Kanonji said softly, barely loud enough for Kaito to hear him despite less than a foot of space separating them. "I cleansed that man's soul!"

"I told you," Kurosaki answered, as he stepped up to Kanonji's side, though his glare remained fixed on Kaito. "It wasn't a monster. It's called a 'Hollow'. Some spirits have chains attached to them… when they tear free, a hole is left in their chest. Then they become irrational monsters… Hollows."

"But…" Kanonji appeared to be at a loss for words, as he watched the spirit fade away.

"Enough," Kaito cut in, as he brushed past the other two on his way to the edge of the stage closest to Urahara. "It's over. Just keep in mind what you learned here."

"Yeah!" Kurosaki interjected, as he finally looked away from Kaito and focused on Kanonji. "I don't know why you never saw anything like this before, but there's no sense in feeling bad about it now!"

"I… yes, you're right," Kanonji agreed, as he gathered himself from the shock he had been dealt.

Kaito ignored him, and ignored Kurosaki's attempts at catching his attention, as he made his way through the crowd. Behind him, the man's bold "BOHAHAHA!" laugh echoed across the gathered crowd, as they all cheered another successful ghost-bust, no matter how strange the events had been.

"That was quite impressive!" Urahara told him, eyes glittering with laughter and a smile that his fan was likely hiding. "My son is quite a swordsman!"

Kaito scoffed and shook his head. "A newborn Hollow that I got the drop on is hardly a challenge. I'm going back to the shop."

Killing the beast hadn't been a challenge, hadn't even sparked a reaction from him despite the roar. It had been harder to stand in front of Kurosaki, to restrain his desire to reach out, to assure himself the teen wasn't just a mirage… and then to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he rattled some self-preservation into that carrot-topped head of Kurosaki's.

Still, even with the emotional exhaustion of the event, he felt cleaner, lighter than before the show. He had changed something. It could be done. He wasn't _helpless_.

"Wh— hey!" Urahar shouted after him, as Kaito stalked off. "You forgot your gigai!"

"Carry it back yourself, old man!"

* * *

The next morning, when Kaito made it down to the training ground and was kicked out of his gigai as usual, he found Yoruichi still in her feline form, lounging atop a rock.

"Kisuke finished the tenshintai last night and brought it down," she informed him, with a nod towards the strange shape propped up against another rock nearby. "If you're sure you want to go through with this, stab your sword into it and you'll have three days to complete the training to gain your bankai."

"Right." Kaito moved the stand in front of the vaguely human-shaped object, summoning his dao to his hand as he did. He paused, took a breath, discarded his worries and hesitance, and stabbed his blade straight through the chest of the doll.

The blade shattered in his hand, dispersing into fragments of reishi and taking the doll with it into a whirlwind of power that flared emerald green for a brief moment before dispersing outward in a rush of power and dust that momentarily blinded him. When it settled, Kaito was surrounded. Zangetsu was standing by his right, and Shiro to his left, while Ichigo himself was standing directly in front of him, expression twisted into a faint smirk.

"You know, when Kisuke said you had _three_ spirits I didn't believe him," Yoruichi commented, as she hopped over to a rock closer to the four of them and scrutinized them. "This is going to complicate things."

"Eh! What's so damn complicated?" Shiro asked as he shot a toothy grin at Yoruichi and bounced his blade against his shoulder. "Koneko's gotta fight _all a'us_ and prove 'imself! It'll be great!"

Kaito only distantly registered the conversation, his focus trained and fixated on just Ichigo. It was one thing to face his friend in his mindscape, but here, in the real world, with Ichigo looking _so much_ like his still living counterpart…

Oh, there were differences, Kaito knew, like the streaks of black through Ichigo's orange hair, or the touches of green in his attire in place of red, but overall his friend looked unchanged.

Ichigo's hand clapped his shoulder, startling Kaito out of his freeze.

"It's not so different," Ichigo reminded him, a faint quirk of his lips showing his amusement at Kaito's frozen state. "And hey! Maybe you can learn how to do this on your own!"

"And give everything away to anyone who sees you? No thanks," Kaito replied dryly, as he shook Ichigo's hand free and took a step back out of the trap as he eyed the three spirits that surrounded him. He hadn't expected _all three_ to appear, just Ichigo, since his friend had stated that _he_ was Kaito's zanpakutou. But this… "How is this going to change things?"

Ichigo gave a loose shrug, a smirk forming as he rocked back on his heels and pulled his dao free of its wrappings. "You'll just have to find out, won't you?"

"Meaning you don't know either."

Kaito leapt backwards, fleeing the silent Getsuga Tenshou that Ichigo launched at him without warning. Shiro's cackling gave him enough warning to dodge the doppleganger's strike, and it was only his instincts blaring a warning that let him escape Zangetsu's silent blow.

From that moment, the three spirits dominated the combat, herding him from blow to blow until blood-soaked dust coated his body and his breath felt like fire in his lungs. They worked together seamlessly, giving him no chance to catch his breath, no chance to do more than run and run and _run_ until his legs wanted to give out and his every movement was agony.

He couldn't even summon any of his weapons. Not even his bow answered his call, leaving him with just a swirl of green reishi gathered in his palm and a gut-wrenching feeling of helplessness that saw him fleeing like a rabbit.

"Keep runnin', Koneko!" Shiro cackled, as he spun his sword over his head by the ribbon and launched it. "Keep provin' ya ain't worth our time! I'll have such _fun_ as yer King!"

Shiro's words roused an anger in Kaito's heart, a rage at his own helplessness, and that surge saw him ducking aside instead of fleeing. His reishi-coated hand lashed out to grab the ribbon as it trailed past. He might not have access to his weapons, but that did not mean he was helpless!

Kaito couldn't yank the ribbon from Shiro's hands. Didn't even try. Instead he turned it on Ichigo, overriding Shiro's control to whip the blade around into Ichigo's face. He wasn't a master of it, but he really didn't _need_ to be.

Ichigo's strike was spoiled. Kaito seized the opportunity, darting through the trap just as Zangetsu struck. Sword buried in a rock, the third spirit frowned and wrenched it free, only to go tumbling as Kaito yanked on the ribbon and sent Shiro straight into him.

He went on the offensive. Rocks, dust, their own strikes — anything that came to hand or crossed his mind. Slowly, he gained knowledge, learned how each responded, learned how they moved and thought and reacted when fighting alongside each other.

His breath came in harsh pants, as he fought to keep one step ahead of all three spirits. Even as he was adapting to their teamwork, so too were they adapting to his methods of striking back. It was everything Kaito could do to keep the three even slightly off balance. Their words didn't help, pointed barbs about his pride, about the futility of his actions, about how _outnumbered_ and _under equipped_ he was.

Still, blood dripped down Ichigo's face. Zangetsu was favouring his left leg. Shiro's white clothing was stained pink in several places. His own wounds were greater than theirs, but he had still managed to deal damage in the face of overwhelming odds.

Suddenly, all three spirits faded away, the tenshintai dropping to the dusty ground with a _whump_ of displaced air.

"Day one's over," Yoruichi informed him, from her perch atop a huge boulder. "Come on, kiddo, let's get you patched up."

Struggling to get his breathing back under control, Kaito followed her deeper into the training ground, to a hidden little hot spring where she gestured for him to enter.

"Kisuke wants you to stay down here until either three days are up, or you gain bankai," Yoruichi informed him, as she took a perch nearby, smirking at the blush that started to creep over Kaito's cheeks. With the air of someone humoring another, she spun around so that her back was facing him. "So he put this hot spring in while he was making the tenshintai."

"Why do I need to stay down here?" Kaito asked, as he wearily tugged himself out of his tattered clothes and sank into the spring with a sigh. The way the pain slowly ebbed away was welcome, and he leaned back against the edge of the pool, staring blankly up at the painted ceiling. His head felt curiously empty, as if Ichigo and the others hadn't actually returned to him, and the silence was almost deafening.

Yoruichi hopped down and splashed into the water, paddling over to him. "Something about distance to the tenshintai. He got horribly technical when he was rambling, so I just tuned him out."

Kaito groaned. "Of course you did. Fine. Where am I sleeping?"

"I brought a sleeping bag down for you!" she chirped. "And some food, because he _insisted_ , so you better appreciate the effort I went through!"

"Basic needs hardly counts as 'extra effort'," Kaito dryly pointed out, as he started to slowly rinse the dust from his body. He dully watched as his wounds started to hiss close upon touching the water, then mechanically went about making sure that his entire body was washed clean. Later he could consider the possibilities of a healing spring. For now, he was too tired to care.

Yoruichi sniffed, then started to paddle away to the other side, her nose tilted up into the air in a picture of feline disdain. "Fine, see if I go easy on you in training again."

Kaito stared blankly at her for a long moment, trying to process her words. Had she… seriously just said she had been going easy on him?

He shook his head. No. He must have misheard her. He was just tired, that was it.

Wasn't it..?

* * *

The next morning, Kaito sat in his sleeping bag, scrubbing blearily at his face as he tried to force himself to wake up. He had spent a restless night tossing and turning despite his exhaustion, and he hardly felt more rested now than when he had first laid down.

His spirit's words kept circling through his head, chased by nightmares and punctuated by the horrible empty _silence_ that had taken the place of the three beings. Twisted visions of Ichigo dying, of Ichigo blaming him for failing, of the world _burning_ around him as everything fell to Aizen kept playing through his dreams, each nightmare worse than the previous. And every time he jerked awake, heart racing and mind fuzzy, Ichigo _hadn't been there_. The silence had cut worse than Kaito had thought it would, his brain taking it as affirmation of his guilt, of the blame heaped upon him by those nightmares. It had gotten to the point where he had given up on sleep, and just sat in meditation for the rest of the night. Not to reach his mindscape, but just to settle his thoughts and emotions.

"Breakfast!" Yoruichi called, as she landed next to his sleeping bag and dropped a bag of energy bars at his side.

Kaito scrubbed at his face again, eyed the bag with annoyance, and reluctantly pulled it open to start eating. She had given him the same thing the night before, and at the time he had thought that she had offered it because of how late it had been, but now…

"Energy bars does _not_ 'extra effort' make!" Kaito grumbled, as he finished the last one off and took a long drink of water from a bottle she had rolled over to him.

"Well, if you'd rather I bring _nothing_ down…?"

Kaito snorted, crumpled the bag up and flicked it at her. The way she dodged was completely expected, and he otherwise made no effort to continue to scold her. Yoruichi was just as contrary as the feline shape she often took, and Kaito knew when he was facing a losing battle. Instead, he forced himself to his feet and pulled his shirt back on before stalking off to where the tenshintai had been left the night before. He tried to mentally prepare himself to fight the three again, sorting through the vague nightmare images that lingered in his mind and tucking them away as best he could.

He was tired, but he had to be at his best. He couldn't let them dominate him again today, not if he wanted to earn their respect and his bankai. Their words the day before hinted at _something_ , at some answer that he was supposed to find, but it remained just out of reach, even after all his meditation.

The moment he stood in front of the tenshintai again, it triggered, a swirl of power that resolved into all three spirits once more. Kaito breathed out a sigh of relief as he laid eyes on them, his irrational fears calming as their presence soothed the ragged edges of his mind.

"So, ya ready ta run like the lil kitten ya are, Koneko?" Shiro asked, as he advanced towards Kaito, maniacal grin on his face and sword already spinning at his side.

"Even kittens have claws," Kaito retorted, as he ducked under the thrown weapon and ignored the ribbon in favor of lunging straight at Shiro. He drove his elbow deep into the spirit's stomach, causing Shiro to double over gasping for breath, and ripped the ribbon out of Shiro's grasp.

Kaito leapt back, away from Zangetsu's retaliatory strike, and channeled his own reiatsu down the ribbon, pulling the blade back into his hand. "And I think I've gained a nice set right here!"

Interestingly, the inverted colors of Shiro's blade didn't change, staying white-backed and black-edged even as Kaito used it to drive Ichigo back into Zangetsu, tripping the two up and sending them tumbling into Shiro. The ribbon coiled around his arm and up to his shoulder, the end arcing up over his shoulder like a cobra ready to strike, shifting about as he moved and constantly pointing towards Shiro.

A distant part of Kaito worried that Shiro still had enough control over the weapon to turn it against him. All it would take was a single lapse of concentration for the ribbon to coil about his neck, strangling him before he could do a thing.

Kaito set his fears aside. Resolved to trust in his own control, and in the straightforward nature of Shiro. He couldn't afford to doubt right now, not when he finally had the offensive. The smooth teamwork of the three had been disturbed by his unexpected actions, and he drove forward mercilessly. He had no desire to fail, no desire to prove himself unworthy.

Shiro didn't remain inactive just because his weapon had been stolen. Turning every trick Kaito had used the day before back on him, the doppleganger harassed and harried Kaito at every turn.

"Jes give it up, Koneko!" Shiro jeered, as he swept his foot out and kicked dust and pebbles straight into Kaito's face. "Ya ain't man enough ta handle my blade!"

Kaito scoffed. Relied on instinct to knock Zangetsu's blade aside and duck under Ichigo's. Scrubbed at his tearing eyes with his free hand even as he shifted back. He swatted the poised ribbon away from his neck, glowering at Shiro as he reasserted control. "That's not the way I remember this going! I claimed this blade once, and I'm laying claim a second time."

Ichigo snorted, lunged with his blade extended, aimed for Kaito's chest. "Then why not let us stab you again, since that worked so well the first time?"

He ducked, swatted Zangetsu's strike aside, kicked Ichigo's leg out from under him. "That was about acknowledging you were a part of me. I doubt this has such a clean answer."

Shiro appeared in his face, fist lashing out in a strike to cover Ichigo as the teen rolled back to his feet. Kaito brought his blade up, braced, heard Shiro snarl in pain as his fist cracked against the flat of the blade.

"If it's not so simple," Zangetsu mused, as he shoulder-checked Kaito aside and followed it up with a punishing kick that sent him flying. "Then I wonder what you think the answer actually is."

Kaito rose to his feet, spat out the blood that had flooded his mouth when he bit his cheek, and launched himself back into the fray. "I don't know."

"Not good enough," Zangetsu growled, as he flashed behind Kaito and tried to drive his sword through the other's gut.

He whirled, lashed out to knock the blow aside, and planted a kick firmly in Zangetsu's stomach to send the spirit flying. A second later, Shiro was flying through the air after Zangetsu, when Kaito caught his punch and hurled him away.

"You know, just fighting us really isn't going to get you anywhere," Ichigo said, as he locked blades with Kaito. His gaze flickered to the arced ribbon, then back to Kaito's face. "The answer's important, but what you make of it is more so."

Teeth bared, Kaito disengaged, letting Ichigo stumble forward a step before helping him face-plant by kicking the back of his friend's knee. The answer was important, but what he made of it was more important?

The words settled into his brain, as Kaito settled into the fight. Clearly he had to figure something out, and soon, but _what was the answer_?

He wouldn't fail. He couldn't afford to.

* * *

Day three dawned far too early and far too hard. He was still feeling the emptiness in his head, the silence that wasn't just the lack of words, but the lack of presence. The feeling that told him he was _alone_ for the first time in months.

After the merging, he would have said unequivocally that he wanted that silence back, that emptiness. But he was finding that, now, he _wasn't_ as accepting of it as he had originally thought. At some point, Ichigo and the other two had stopped being nuisances and started being an integral part of him that he was coming to rely upon.

So he stood in front of his three spirits, glowered at Shiro who had reclaimed his blade the night before, and broke for Zangetsu this time. His actions gave him a moment's respite, as Ichigo and Shiro froze, having expected him to try a repeat of yesterday's actions.

But he couldn't afford that expectation. He only had this last day to win, and he needed to pull every. Last. Trick. Free.

Kaito grabbed Zangetsu's arm, levering the lean man around and throwing him into Ichigo before either could react. He kicked Shiro's legs out from under him, sending the spirit tumbling into the pile, and grabbed both Shiro's and Zangetsu's blades before escaping. Kaito slung Shiro's blade over his shoulder, trusting that it would remain in place, and settled into a stance holding Zangetsu's blade.

It felt odd in his hand, as if it was merely a practice blade instead of a real thing. Like the balance was subtly off: a touch too light, a touch unbalanced. Still, Kaito held onto it and adapted, meeting Ichigo head on as the teen came at him, sword ready.

"So sure that you're going to win?" Ichigo asked, as their blades rang against each other.

Neither gained ground; any progress Kaito made was lost as Shiro and Zangetsu harried him. Any progress Ichigo made was lost when Kaito turned those harrying strikes against Ichigo instead.

"I'm certain of it." Kaito shifted to the side, let Shiro tackle Ichigo into the dust, redirected Zangetsu's strike to empty air. "They seem to be getting in your way just as much as mine, now."

It was true. Shiro's wild attempts at grappling him more often hit Ichigo than him, and Zangetsu's blows seemed… blunted. As if the man wasn't even trying anymore, just going through the motions, not trying to assist either one of them in particular.

The man's blade still felt awkward in his hand, though, and Kaito couldn't help but wish he had his bow. That was what the balance felt more akin to, if he tried to imagine holding only half his bow.

Still, Zangetsu had never led him astray. Had tried to support him and shore him up. He trusted that the man's blade wouldn't turn against him in a way that he hadn't trusted Shiro's the day before. But now, now he had been fighting with Shiro's blade slung across his back, not even keeping an eye on the ribbon that coiled about his shoulder the moment he touched it.

Shiro would turn against him in a heartbeat, the very moment he proved unfit. Had threatened and cajoled and snarled warning after warning into his consciousness every time Kaito had faltered or felt like giving up. Had demanded nightly spars and constant proof of Kaito's strength.

But that was the thing. Shiro would turn against him, but only if he failed, and only after plenty of warning and a chance to prove himself. The spirit was reliable in his own way, and Kaito had forced himself to remember that during the night, as he thought back on the second day's combat.

With that knowledge, combined with the way the blade hadn't turned on him the day before, Kaito was confident in relying upon Shiro's dao. The ribbon that arced over his shoulder reacted to his thoughts, another layer of defense against the harrying. It coiled about Shiro's wrist, hurling the spirit aside and knocking Zangetsu away. The reiatsu he fed it kept it strong, able to deflect things he could only just sense. When Zangetsu tossed a handful of dust in his face, the ribbon whipped around his eyes, shielding him from the dust.

And Kaito let it. Let it protect him like the extension of his will that it _was_. Shiro's blade or not, born of Ichigo's soul or not, the blade had adapted to _him_ , had accepted _him_ as its master, and Kaito had to place his trust in that.

Instead of worrying, he threw himself into the combat, struggling to keep as many out oft he combat in a single moment as he could, knowing that their time was coming to a close.

Finally, finally he managed to get the three to align just _so_ , and promptly sheathed Zangetsu's sword in order to grab the man with both hands, pulling a repeat of the start of the day as he levered the other around and hurled him straight into Shiro and Ichigo. The three spirits went flying, colliding with the ground with an almighty crash and leaving yet another crater behind.

Not wasting a moment, Kaito darted in, pulling Shiro's blade free and sending the ribbon coiling about all three, binding them together.

"I win," Kaito announced, as he pulled the ribbon taught, strengthening the current of reiatsu flowing into it as he felt Shiro attempt to seize control.

For a moment, he thought the three wouldn't agree, that he had missed something, that something would yet again go _wrong._ But Shiro quit struggling for control, and Zangetsu ceased his own subtle efforts for freedom. Even Ichigo stopped fighting, nodding to Kaito in defeat.

Slowly, Kaito allowed the ribbon to retreat back to his side, and watched as the three picked themselves up.

"Well, I'm satisfied!" Ichigo announced, as he pried himself out of the crater Kaito had thrown them into. He dusted his shihakushou off, then walked over to Kaito and gave his friend a nod. "As far as I'm concerned, you've gained bankai."

Kaito rolled his eyes and huffed as Ichigo slowly dispersed into reishi and settled back into his mindscape, then glanced over at the other two spirits who were also pulling themselves back to their feet. Shiro's madcap grin was as wide as ever, toothy and _pleased_ in a way that Kaito had never seen before. Even Zangetsu was looking a touch pleased, as the two approached him.

When Kaito offered Shiro's blade back to him, the spirit just shook his head and grinned even wider as he dropped it right back into Kaito's left hand.

"'Ere, ya earned it! Make sure ta call me up whenever ya fight now!"

He stared at the color-inverted blade, then up at Shiro, a frown of confusion on his face. "'Call you up'?"

"Yeh! What, ya thought ya only had one blade, when ya had three spirits?"

"Ichigo said _he_ was my zanpakutou," Kaito replied, as he tried to make sense of what Shiro was saying. "That you and Zangetsu were just… pieces of him?"

"An' we are," Shiro agreed, a touch grumpily, before rolling his eyes and stabbing a finger at Kaito. "But we're also bits a' _you_ now, Koneko! Aibou gave ya his blade right away, cause he likes ya. But me, ya had ta impress me, an' by the time ya did, weren't time ta get ya used to fightin' with two blades. Now, I expect ya ta learn quick an' use my blade ta kill that fucker!"

"Your bankai—"

"Same as Aibou's," Shiro cut in with a shrug. "We're jes a matched pair, so we change at th'same time."

Kaito nodded weakly, as Shiro apparently decided that was everything he needed to know and faded away back into his mindscape. Shiro's blade, indentical to Ichigo's in all but color, rested heavy in his left hand. It made sense, if he twisted his mind around in a certain direction, that there would be a blade per spirit, though that…

That left Zangetsu. A man who had been part of Ichigo. And if Ichigo's blade had been named Zangetsu after this man, then… what about Shiro's blade? Why was it the mirror of Ichigo's, and Zangetsu's blade was awkward and unbalanced? Shouldn't it have been the reverse?

A man who was currently watching him with his typical inscrutable gaze.

"Are you going to drop another weapon on me too?" Kaito attempted to joke, though it fell flat to his ears.

"No." Zangetsu took a few steps closer, his coat fluttering around his legs as he moved. "You have always had me with you. I am your first and dearest weapon, your will given shape, your strength given form."

Kaito frowned as he tried to puzzle through Zangetsu's strange words. His first and dearest weapon? That was his bow, but… but he had never heard the other's voice before. And besides, Zangetsu was a part of Ichigo, wasn't he?

"I was always a part of both of you," Zangetsu answered Kaito's unspoken question. "But Ichigo was always _more_ , just as you now are."

"Wait!" Kaito straightened, staring at Zangetsu in shock. "Ichigo was a _Quincy?!_ "

(*Wait, what?!*)

Zangetsu merely smiled, as he faded away back into Kaito's mindscape, leaving more questions behind than he had answered.

(*Hey! Old Man, come on!*) Ichigo exclaimed, as he tried to get Zangetsu to talk.

Kaito shook his head, as Ichigo's pleas drifted off into silence as his friend followed Zangetsu deeper into his mindscape and away from Kaito's conscious awareness. He took a moment, head tilted back and eyes closed, to bask in the return of the spirits, in the way he once more felt _whole_ now that they had returned. For better or worse, they were an irrevocable part of himself now, and the idea of tearing them free was… terrifying.

Recalling himself to the present, Kaito allowed Shiro's blade to fade away, then tried to call up both blades at once. They answered his call eagerly, mirrored blades appearing one in each hand.

Experimenting with them, Kaito attempted to accustom himself to fighting with two long blades. It felt a bit ridiculous, and likely looked just as bad due to his clumsy movements, but at least the weight of the weapons wasn't unreasonable. Still, he would need to spend time both inside his mindscape and out here practicing, if he didn't want to look foolish when he tried to actually fight in real combat.

Curious about how it would work, he forced the blades to shift to his bow, and had to blink as Shiro's blade shimmered and became a bright green arrow while Ichigo's blade transformed into his bow.

Kaito stared thoughtfully at the bow. The shape hadn't changed in the slightest, still an elongated compass rose with two forward facing spikes, but the color of it… it reminded him more of his father's bow. It looked like it was made of real wood that had been stained black, with emerald green inlaid patterns that covered the face and sides. He nocked the arrow in his hand and drew back, taking aim at a boulder in the distance.

The arrow lanced across the intervening space, before _vaporizing_ the boulder completely, leaving just a faint wisping of dust and reishi behind.

An impressed whistle caught his attention, and Kaito turned slight to look behind him, only then noticing that Urahara and Yoruichi were both watching him experimenting.

"That's one impressive attack!" Urahara remarked.

Kaito shrugged awkwardly and allowed his bow to dissipate back into reishi. "Did you want something?"

"Just checking up on my dear son!" Urahara proclaimed as he snapped his fan open and fluttered it. "After all, we're coming up on the evening of the third day!"

"I'd like to see you fight three spirits to a standstill without access to weapons," Kaito grouched, as he slumped back down on the rock and looked between the two ex-Shinigami. "Did you know that was going to happen?"

"Maa, I might have suspected, just a little bit," Urahara admitted blithely. "You did tell me you have three spirits in there, so it stood to reason they'd all show up!"

Kaito narrowed his eyes at Urahara, then shook his head in resignation. Nothing he said would get the man to apologize for something as (mostly) harmless as what had happened. But before his brain could sanity check his mouth, he spoke, "Just for that, I want you to help me practice fighting with two blades."

Urahara blinked in surprise. "Ooooh? I would have thought you'd turn to anyone but little ol' me! Very well! We'll start tomorrow afternoon, after your lesson with Yoruichi!"

Well, nothing for it. Urahara was a terrifying opponent to face, Kaito knew, but… well, that could only be for the better, right?

Right?

He was going to die, wasn't he.

* * *

 **For anyone who didn't quite catch it, or want a more straightforward answer, the bankai fight was about trust. Ichigo's fight in canon was about learning how to rely on his own strength, instead of just expecting Zangetsu to carry him through everything. But Uryuu's never had that specific problem; he's always relied on himself, on his own strength and skill as a Quincy. Instead, his trust has been trampled on by… pretty much everyone of import to his life: the trust he had in his father and in doctors, the trust he had in Shinigami through his grandfather, the inherent childish trust of the capabilities of a beloved mentor to survive anything. It's why, I think, he really tries to hold himself aloof from everyone, so he doesn't have to have his trust broken again.**

 **Except that works against him in this situation, because a Shinigami has to trust their blade if they want to reach the heights of skill Uryuu needs and wants. And Shiro isn't exactly… the most trustworthy-looking/acting being on the planet, and the Old Man can be a bit too cryptic at times, even if he's loads better than Shiro (although even that's deceptive, because in canon the Old Man was actually holding Ichigo back on purpose). Even Ichigo is a bit iffy at this point, because Uryuu trusted him to dominate that fight with Ulquiorra and Ichigo died and left everything in Uryuu's hands.**

 **So, their problems aren't 100% fixed, but Uryuu's trusting them more now, and that's good enough for the three to start with.**

 **In other news, I decided to give up on the pat-reon (seriously, ffnet, you're even censoring pat-reon as a word now? This is getting pretty big-brother.), because it just wasn't working out. Life's getting in the way of reliably writing this past month or two, and it's probably only going to get worse. I know a couple people indicated they were interested in world building stuff, so I'll pose this question: if I set something up to share stuff outside of ffnet and ao3, where would people like it to be? Facebook, tumblr, something I've never heard of..?  
**


	11. Urahara is a Contagion

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and those people/companies that publish Bleach. I own nothing except my meagre attempts at playing in his sandbox.

Warnings: Pretty much everybody's mouth, described violence (it IS Bleach, after all), unbetaed

( _Everything's green_ ) - Subconscious flow of thoughts  
( _*Why is everything green?*_ ) - Uryuu actively thinking  
(*Because it is.*) - Ichigo actively thinking  
( ***Who th'hell cares?!*** ) - Shiro actively thinking  
( _*Peace, hollow.*_ ) - Old Man Zangetsu actively thinking

* * *

Kaito blocked Urahara's strike, his arm trembling at the force the man was exerting. He'd lost track of time quite a while back; his world had shrunk down to _dodge-block-strike_ , coated in a haze of agony and edged with the sharp sting of wounds that slipped through. His legs ached from his morning training with Yoruichi — the crazy feline _had_ decided she was going too 'easy' on him, like she'd threatened — and now his upper body was aching from the torture Urahara was putting him through.

Fighting with two large blades was much more difficult than he had expected, even if he'd found that he could reduce their length a bit. And Urahara. Had. No. Mercy!

Urahara smirked at him, pulling back and flashing away to strike at Kaito's back.

Kaito twisted, lashed out with a blade. Used the second to shield against Urahara's real strike. He stumbled back, rocked by the force of the blow, then set his stance. He had no hope of beating Urahara. Had cured himself of that delusion the first day they'd sparred and he'd gotten tossed on his ass within a few minutes. His weapons were still too new in his hands, still strange and a touch too heavy and a touch too awkward.

Two blades was just too different from his original training. But even so, he could see the advances he was making.

"Good!" Urahara redirected Kaito's first strike, opening a hole that he used to strike at Kaito's chest. A pleased look crossed his expression when Kaito brought his second blade around to defend and recovered from the disruption. "You're improving."

Before Kaito could register the man's movements, Urahara had swiped his legs out from under him and he was staring up at the bright blue ceiling, a cloud of dust rising around him.

"Another few days and you might be a challenge for an academy student!"

"Thanks," Kaito replied dryly, as he pushed himself up and swiped a strand of limp hair out of his face. "You fill me with such confidence."

"Don't mention it!" Urahara chirped, his fan out and covering the lower half of his face. He sat down on a boulder and set Benihime down at his side, clearly indicating the training was done for the afternoon. "I'm surprised you're not using your bankai to fight me, though."

Kaito shook his head and leveled Shiro's blade at Urahara. "Bankai is manageable. Have you seen these two meat-cleavers I'm stuck with normally? _This_ is what I need practice with."

(*Hey! That's not my fault!*)

( _*Really? It isn't? These things aren't just you and your doppelganger trying to be the biggest, silliest things out there?*_ )

Shiro cackled. ( ***Uh-oh! Looks like Koneko's onta us!*** )

"Well, you don't have to use both all the time," Urahara suggested, amusement glittering in his shadowed eyes.

Kaito fixed Urahara with a look, and said, "You've never met Shiro or Ichigo, have you."

(*Why are you lumping me in with _him?!_ *)

"Maa, maa, Kaito-kun, I can't really see inside your head, now can I?" Urahara responded.

"I am not going to be accused of playing favourites," Kaito growled, both to Urahara and Ichigo. "And that's what will _happen_. If I only use Ichigo's blade, Shiro will start whining — shut up, Shiro, yes you will — and if I only use Shiro's, he'll start gloating and picking a fight with Ichigo. And if I try to trade off equally, I'll have to suffer through whining _and_ cat-fights. No. I'm going to learn to use both, no matter how goddamn _ridiculous_ it makes me look and I'll just have to be sure to _stab anyone that thinks about laughing._ "

"Oooh, so bloodthirsty!" Urahara fanned himself, a grin spreading across his face, "Benihime will be so _proud_ to know you take after her!"

Kaito paused to process that, then decided that the best answer was just to accept it and move on. What little he knew about Urahara's Zanpakutou didn't paint the most pleasant picture of her, and given that true Zanpakutou were born of a Shinigami's soul…

Instead, he decided to redirect the conversation. "Urahara-san… at the end… Zangetsu implied that Ichigo was part Quincy. And… you said something similar when we first met, didn't you? About Ichigo being my cousin."

"I was wondering if you'd notice that," Urahara answered with a chuckle, content to allow the subject change. "I'd almost been sure you both already knew, from the lack of questions."

Kaito shook his head at that and frowned down at the ground, trying to put his thoughts into order. "We… only just learned that Kurosaki-sensei was a Shinigami, before everything went wrong. He never said anything about Ichigo's mother, or us being related."

Urahara sighed, tipping his bucket had down to shade his eyes, and allowed silence to stretch between them. Kaito almost thought the man would say nothing, but finally Urahara lookedback up and folded his hands in his lap.

"I promised to never tell this to Kurosaki-kun, that it was his father's story to tell when and if the man ever decided to, but I suppose that doesn't really apply to you. Just promise me you'll keep this to yourself."

"I promise."

"Ichigo's mother was originally promised to your father," Urahara informed him bluntly. "She was a pure Quincy, and Ryuuken's first cousin. Except things went wrong — she killed a strange Hollow while saving Isshin, and started to Hollowfy as a result. Isshin sacrificed his Shinigami powers to stabilize her soul, and they eventually got married."

Kaito blinked at the terse, matter-of-fact recitation. There was so much more to the story, he could tell, but… with just those few sentences, Urahara had laid out the core of the matter. He had never heard of a Hollow that resulted in a living person being Hollowfied — and, really, wasn't everything Hollow anathema to Quincy? That was what he'd always been taught, that they couldn't Hollowfy at all, because they would just be unmade.

Ichigo, however, was stuck on something else that had been bothering him since Zangetsu's hint at the ending of training. (*So, wait. If the Old Man is the representation of our Quincy powers, then…*)

Shiro's loud cackling echoed through Kaito's mind, the sound gleeful. ( ***Tha's right, Aibo! I'm yer goddamn Zanpakutou, not that straight laced priss!*** )

Kaito felt the corners of his lips twitching, trying to form a smile despite the way Shiro's laughter was threatening to give him a headache. ( _*Only you, Ichigo, would nickname your Zanpakutou 'white'!*_ )

(*But… but… why?!*) Ichigo sputtered. (*Why did you pretend?*)

( _*Because I never wanted you to become a Shinigami,*_ ) the Old Man reluctantly answered. ( _*Because down that path was only pain, both physical and mental. Because becoming a Shinigami meant risking your life and limb for people that would neither appreciate you nor what you were. Because if you went far enough, I was certain I would have to kill you with my own hands.*_ )

( _*Why?*_ ) Kaito asked, as he stared down at his hands. Was that to have been his fate from the very beginning? To kill his friend over… what? ( _*Why would you have to kill him? I know Quincy and Shinigami don't get along, but…*_ )

( _*That, I cannot yet answer. But know, that as you advanced, as you chose to walk that path despite the hardships, my heart gave way. I came to believe in you, to believe in the future you held dear, and began to assist. The only thing I lied to you about was my name.*_ )

Thoughtful silence settled in his mind, as Ichigo clearly took a moment to consider that, before he stated firmly, (*It doesn't matter. You're a part of us. You've helped us through this, and guided us as best you could.*)

Kaito nodded firmly, thinking back on the times the Old Man had been there for him, shoring up his confidence and grounding him with good advice. Even in that battle with Aizen, they would have been unable to fight so well without Old Man Zangetsu there to assist. ( _*Yes. We couldn't have made it this far without your help. Thank you.*_ )

The Old Man wavered for a moment, before seeming to accept their words and retreating silently from the forefront of the mindscape. Questions still lingered in Kaito's mind, but for now he was willing to let it go, to let the manifestation be. Admitting such a lie couldn't have been easy, and clearly the spirit had expected a much different response than the one he received.

(*I'm still going to call you Shiro,*) Ichigo told the Hollow firmly. (*Two Zangetsu's is confusing, and you've answered to Shiro just fine so far.*)

Shiro's sputtering brought a smirk to Kaito's face. The damn spirit deserved such a silly nickname, with the way he acted all the time.

* * *

Kaito made his way back to the shoten, bags of supplies heavy on his arms. Urahara had given him the afternoon off, telling him to get out and do something other than training for once.

He'd been at a loss at first; what was he supposed to do, meet up with non-existent friends? But then his feet had taken him into one of the craft stores, and suddenly all that 'allowance money' that Urahara kept foisting off on him was burning a hole in his pocket. It had been months since he'd been able to do any sewing, and he now had both the time and the money to spend on it, so…

It had been easy to ignore Shiro's sniggers, and Ichigo's resigned amusement didn't even register on his radar of annoyance levels. Though perhaps he _had_ gone a bit overboard, since he needed to reinforce his arms in order to carry everything in one go, but… he couldn't help it! He needed to replace _everything_ — his thread, his tools, his collection of fabric, even his patterns! Already he was planning his first project, mentally altering designs in order to come up with something that wasn't horribly out of date but still looked like something a person from Soul Society would be comfortable in.

Eventually, he could start branching back into more modern clothing, Kaito decided, but for now he was supposed to be newly arrived from Soul Society. Clothing would be one method of comfort for such a person, a taste of the familiar in a truly unfamiliar world.

"Tadaima!" Kaito called, as he stepped into the shoten and started making his way towards the back.

"Ah, Kaito-kun! Just the person I wanted to see!" Urahara chirped happily. He shot up from his seat at the back of the shop and grabbed hold of Kaito's shoulder, directing him to where Urahara had been sitting moments before and pushing Kaito down into his spot. "Keep an eye on the shop for me, will you? Ta!"

Kaito stared after Urahara in dumbfounded shock, as the man darted away and left him, alone, in the shop.

(*Did… did we just get strong-armed into manning the shop?*) Ichigo asked in confusion.

( _*It looks like it?*_ ) Kaito replied, trying to make sense of the last few moments. He glanced down at his collection of bags, wondering what to do with all of them — it looked rather unprofessional, and it was bad manners to leave the shop unattended since he had no idea when the next customer would arrive.

"I… I can take those to your room? I-if you'd like, Kaito-san," Ururu's shy voice interrupted his thoughts, before he could decide on a course of action.

Kaito nodded at her and shifted his arms free of the handles. "Thank you, Ururu-chan. Just leave them inside the door, if you would?"

She blushed and ducked her head, before scooping all of the bags up in a single go — and it looked even sillier when _she_ did it, Kaito decided, like something out of an anime — and moving into the back. He'd expected her to need a few trips to carry everything, but… apparently he was still underestimating the shy girl.

That left him, once more, alone in the shop. He could hear Jinta goofing around outside, and Tessai bustling about in the storeroom of the shop, so whatever it was that Urahara had wanted to do didn't seem to have anything to do with either of them.

( _*How much business does this store get, anyway?*_ ) Kaito absently asked Ichigo as he scanned the shop and the candy displays to either side. He knew Urahara did some business, but how much he'd never been sure of. Even living with the man, he'd spent more time training than paying attention to the shop itself.

(*I don't really know,*) Ichigo admitted. (*I know Yuzu comes here some days, but other than that…*)

The sound of a footstep pulled Kaito's attention away from the displays and towards the door, where Kurosaki and Kuchiki were standing awkwardly. The breath caught in his throat momentarily, but he swallowed past the lump in his throat and forged on, not willing to allow his grief to rule his life.

"Welcome and come in," Kaito called, proud when his voice neither wavered nor sounded choked. He doubted the two were there for candy, and just hoped they could wait until Urahara deigned to show himself again, because Kaito had no idea what sort of Shinigami goods the man sold.

"Eh! You work here?!" Kurosaki walked into the store behind Kuchiki, his attention fixed on Kaito and a puzzled tilt to his scowl.

Kaito shot the past version of his friend a deadpan look, and said, "He _is_ my father."

And calling Urahara his father _still_ felt weird. He hadn't used that term to refer to anyone in years, but the more differences there were between himself and Ishida, the better.

(*I didn't come here this early, before,*) Ichigo mused thoughtfully. (*I wonder if it's because of us?*)

( _*I doubt anything else has truly changed yet.*_ )

"So he really _is_ your father?!" Kuchiki practically yelped, before she managed to regain her composure. "Er, I mean, he said something to that regard at the show, and you did look similar, which is why I brought Ichigo here, and—"

Kaito raised a hand, thankfully stopping the babbling, then gave both of them a searching look. He was starting to have a sinking suspicion as to why Urahara had left him manning the store so abruptly. "So you came looking for me in particular? Is that the only reason?"

"Yeah, who are you?" Kurosaki asked bluntly, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin set in a stubborn tilt. Come hell or high water, Kurosaki wasn't going to leave him be until he got his answers.

Kaito narrowed his eyes, then smirked, trying his best to mimic Urahara's teasing tone as he said, "Oooh? How rude! Demanding my name without introducing yourself."

Ichigo's sputtered words about 'being corrupted' and 'great, now there's _two_ of them!' almost made Kaito's smirk turn into a full grin. And Kurosaki's frustrated look, complete with faint tick forming at the corner of the teen's right eye, only made Kaito struggle harder against breaking into a fit of laughter right then and there.

"Forgive me," Kuchiki bit out, in her most formal tone, as she gave him a bow just _barely_ deep enough to be considered polite. "I am Kuchiki Rukia, and this is Kurosaki Ichigo. May we know your name?"

Perhaps pretending to be Urahara's son had its highlights after all, if this was the sort of reaction he could get just by passing his frustration at the man on to others. Gleefully, Kaito inclined his head _ever so slightly_ , just enough to be polite, but only barely, in order to return Kuchiki's silent slight. "I am Urahara Kaito. Are you looking for my father? Because he scampered off somewhere not too long ago, and I'm unsure where."

"No," Kuchiki replied, as she stepped a bit closer, Kurosaki trailing along like a lost puppy. "Ichigo wanted to meet you, so I brought him here because you were with Urahara-san that night."

"Oooh? You wanted to meet with me?" Kaito arched an eyebrow and carefully folded his hands away in his sleeves, not wanting either of them to notice the trembling he could feel starting in his fingers. He was desperately resisting the urge to grab Kurosaki by the shoulders and just _shake him_ until some goddamn _common sense_ got rattled in that thick skull of his and he promised to stop being such a _reckless idiot_.

He was almost afraid of how he would react to meeting his own past self face to face. In retrospect, he'd been _even worse_ than Kurosaki.

"Yeah!" Kurosaki replied sharply, moving until he was almost pushing into Kaito's personal space. "Who the hell are you and why were you there that night?"

Kaito smiled in Kurosaki's face, refusing to lean away from the other teen, and replied with as much cheer as he could, "Well, you see, Ururu-chan and Jinta-kun wanted to see the show, and since I have only recently come to live in Karakura, father decided he would make it an outing for the entire Shoten."

Ichigo's growing amusement at his past-self's predicament helped Kaito maintain his cheerful tone, even in the face of the darkening scowl on Kurosaki's face.

"No! I mean, why where you _there_ , as a _Shinigami?_ " Kurosaki growled. "I could have handled that Hollow just fine!"

"A Shinigami? I think you have me mistaken, Kurosaki-san," Kaito replied with a smile, enjoying the way his words wound Kurosaki up further. "I will admit that I was in my spirit form, thanks to father's rather… unexpected help, but that hardly makes me a Shinigami."

"But you had a Zanpakutou!" Kuchiki exclaimed, as she broke into the conversation. "And you killed that Hollow with it, and it was purified!"

"Hmm, did I?" Kaito asked, as he tilted his head upwards to stare at the ceiling. His laughter was only kept at bay by sheer force of will at this point — was this how Urahara always felt? If so, he could certainly see the appeal. "Well, I suppose I must have, if you say it's so, Kuchiki-san."

"But you _did!_ " she practically wailed.

Kaito shook his head and turned his attention back to her, asking as innocently as he could, "But I never went to the Academy, so how could I be a Shinigami?"

Kuchiki's gob-smacked expression was everything he had hoped for, and Kaito turned his attention to Kurosaki with the knowledge that she'd be out of the conversation for a while as her brain restarted. The teen was examining him was a thoughtful look in his eyes, an expression that made Kaito wary, and he couldn't help but narrow his eyes at the past version of his friend. What exactly had he said or done that had brought that look into the other's gaze?

"Hat'n'Clogs' son, huh?" Kurosaki mused, and Kaito narrowed his eyes further as he caught sight of the tiny tilt of the other's lips that signified amusement. "So he was testing you too, then?"

Kaito saw no point in denying it, so he inclined his head in silent agreement.

Kurosaki's gaze flickered to the closed shogi doors that led into the private section of the building, then back to Kaito, "And he just so happened to 'scamper off' and leave you in charge of the store before we came to see you."

He sighed and nodded. "Yes. I had… begun to suspect the same, when you came in the door."

"But why would he _do that?_ " Kuchiki asked, her voice thick with confusion.

"Why wouldn't he do that?" Kaito responded, a bit confused himself. Hadn't she learned yet how annoying and frustrating Urahara actually was? This sort of setup was exactly like the man, and Kaito wasn't even going to attempt to tease out all the myriad reasons and plots Urahara had spun from this meeting.

Kurosaki scowled at him in frustration, then huffed and dropped the subject. "How good are you with your sword?"

"Eh?" was all Kaito could muster for a moment, his brain scrambling to catch up with the topic shift. "Passable, I suppose. Why?"

"Fight me," Kurosaki replied. "You took that Hollow down in two strikes, before I had a chance to do anything."

( _*Ichigo?*_ ) Kaito asked, as he tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling again.

Ichigo's response was slow in coming, his words thoughtful. (*I never had anyone to practice swordsmanship against. I practiced a bit with Hat'n'Clogs, but, well…*)

But Kaito now knew first hand exactly how terrifying it was to face Urahara, even when the man wasn't really trying. There was always something sinister about his movements, like he was restraining his true instincts at every moment. He had no doubt that in a fair fight he could probably stand toe-to-toe with Urahara, though perhaps not win quite yet, but the idea that Urahara would _allow_ a fair fight felt laughable.

"Well, I suppose there's no harm in it," Kaito finally said, tone carefully amused. "After that showing of yours, I won't even need to ask Tsukabishi-san to heal me afterwards. You, on the other hand…"

Kaito shoved himself backwards, away from Kurosaki's reaching hand, and scramble to his feet out of the other's reach unless the teen followed him onto the raised platform. He waved a hand through the air like he was swatting away a fly, and pulled at everything he knew about Urahara to say, "Maa, maa, so volatile, Kurosaki-san!"

"Get back here, you," Kurosaki growled, before he snapped at Kuchiki, "Knock me free, already!"

"Maa, maa," Urahara's voice cut through the rising tension in the shop. He walked in through the public entrance, lower face covered by his fan and laughing eyes shaded by his hat. "What have we here? Fighting in my shop?"

"Father," Kaito greeted the other, the word tasting awkward on his tongue, and he had to remind himself that it was for the best that he acknowledged the fictional relationship between them.

"Ah, Kaito-kun!" Urahara stepped out of his geta and moved to Kaito's side, then asked, "Are these two pestering you?"

Kaito slanted a look at Kurosaki and Kuchiki, tempted to throw the two at Urahara's twisted sense of humor, before looking back at Urahara and schooling his expression into as close to an innocent expression as he could. "They seemed under the impression that I was a Shinigami, and Kurosaki-san wants to fight."

"Oooh?" Urahara smirked at Kaito, then snapped his fan closed and tapped it against the side of his mouth. "I can assure you, Kuchiki-chan, Kurosaki-kun, that my son is no Shinigami. As for fighting… weeeeeell…"

"I had already agreed to it," Kaito said, because he was unaware of how long Urahara had been lurking there and listening in. Common sense said 'from the beginning', but he doubted Urahara would admit to anything. "Kurosaki-san merely took offense at the idea that he'd be the only one needing healing."

"Well then! I suppose there's nothing for it!" Urahara exclaimed happily while he toed aside a tatami mat and knelt to haul open the reveal trapdoor. "In you two go!"

Kaito's eyes widened, and he pushed himself into a flash step before Urahara could 'encourage' him to enter the training room. His arms burned as he grabbed hold of the ladder halfway down and steadied himself from his awkward lunge. Though he was getting better at doing things like shunpo and fighting in his gigai, there was still a lingering sense of wrongness every time, and he didn't quite trust himself to shunpo down the entire distance yet.

A few steps down the ladder, and Kurosaki's screaming form ripped past Kaito before cratering the ground below.

(*Ahahahaha… oh man…*) Ichigo laughed awkwardly, both of them peering down at the drifting dust cloud that obscured their view of Kurosaki. (*Hope Hat'n'Clogs knocked me free, first.*)

( _*I won't have much of a sparring partner if he didn't,*_ ) Kaito retorted while descending the rest of the way. He picked his way over to the fresh crater and peered down into it. ( _*He did.*_ )

Kurosaki was groaning, dressed in his Shinigami attire, and slowly picking himself up from the ground. He shouted up at the trapdoor so high above them, "Goddamnit, Hat'n'Clogs! Ya didn't have to push me!"

"Mou, Kurosaki-kun," Urahara pouted from his position at Kaito's side. "So mean. You weren't moving fast enough! Who knows when a customer could arrive, after all!"

Kaito pressed a hand to his chest and edged a step away from Urahara, trying to get his heart rate back under control. One of these days, he swore, he'd train his sensing high enough to actually sense Urahara before the man pulled a stunt like that.

"Well, if this is to be equal, I should probably leave Kaito-kun the way he is," Urahara mused, amusement glinting in his eyes. At Kurosaki's mulish expression, Urahara gave a very put upon sigh and twirled his cane before shoving it straight into Kaito's chest and knocking him free. "But if the customer wants a challenge, who am I to deny him one!"

"You know he just played you," Kaito informed Kurosaki, then shook his head at Kurosaki's almost arrogant scoff. Well, if the teen wanted to be shown the distance between them, Kaito would have no trouble proving it. With a thought he summoned both his blades and moved away from his gigai, not wanting to accidentally damage it during the coming combat.

"How do you do that? And I thought you only had one blade," Kurosaki asked, as he trailed after Kaito, staring around at the training ground in surprise. "And what the hell _is_ this place?"

"In order of your questions: I call my swords to my hands; I'm currently better with one blade than two so in real combat I still prefer to only use one; and _this_ is an underground training room that father built." He didn't bother to explain that he was actually _creating_ his blade anew every time he did that. Even knowing that Kurosaki shared some Quincy traits with him, he had never seen the other do anything resembling his materialization trick.

"Huh. So you're that confident in your skills?" Kurosaki stopped moving and watched Kaito a bit warily.

Kaito gave Kurosaki a sharp grin, raised his blades into a combat stance, and bolted forward. He claimed the offensive, driving the other teen back with a flurry of blows and feints.

"Whoa!" Kurosaki yelped, stumbling back in the face of Kaito's strength. But the shock soon passed, and Kaito was pleased to see Kurosaki's eyes narrow in concentration.

(*I didn't realize we had become this good,*) Ichigo mused while Kaito continued to drive Kurosaki back. (*Or this fast!*)

Kaito knew what Ichigo meant. Already he was having to cut back his speed a second time, then a third, just so that Kurosaki could keep up with him. After all, he wanted this past version of his friend to _learn_ something, not just get hopelessly beaten by a foe he couldn't keep track of.

Bright crimson blood scattered from the edge of Shiro's blade. Kurosaki grit his teeth, gaze furious and shihakushou slowly gaining a wet gleam in places. He was outmatched and he suddenly _understood_ that in a way he hadn't before, but like Kaito expected, that only drove Kurosaki on to greater heights.

"Is this all you've got?" Kaito mocked, a wicked smirk twisting at his lips. He knocked aside a clumsy blow, twisted, pointedly elbowed Kurosaki in the sternum. _Look at you_ , he was saying silently, _I don't even need to use my second blade to wound you. Catch up._

"Bastard!" Kurosaki tried to kick out Kaito's knee, missed, stumbled forward.

Kaito scored another bleeding line into Kurosaki's side, long and shallow. He wasn't aiming to kill, just wound. Just deal enough damage to get his point across.

"Do you even know how to wield that butcher's knife of yours?" Kaito dryly asked while parrying another blow. Kurosaki's blade slid down and away to the side, once more unbalancing the teen and leaving an opening that Kaito exploited to draw more blood. "It's like you've never fought another swordsman before."

Kurosaki growled and readjusted his grip, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "I haven't."

Kaito blinking slightly in surprise at the teen's honesty, then shrugged and shifted away from another wild blow. "Well, that explains many things."

( _*Hopefully this doesn't come back to bite us,*_ ) Kaito thought with worry, not even paying conscious attention to the way he was driving Kurosaki back.

(*How could it?*) Ichigo asked, curious as to his friend's reasons for worry. (*Being better at fighting can't be a bad thing, right?*)

( _*What if this practice means the Captains take your past self more seriously, and kill him?*_ )

(*I… don't think they will,*) Ichigo replied thoughtfully, considering all the Captains he had fought. (*They don't really see a child as a danger, and most of them aren't that interested in killing kids. Also, I think the orders were for our capture, not our death, so as long as we don't kill anyone…*)

( _*And neither of us like killing,*_ ) Kaito answered with relief. That was true. Even after what he had done to the twelfth Captain, he had still been captured and partially healed, not immediately put to death.

"Are you even paying attention?" Kurosaki raged as he unleashed a flurry of blows that forced Kaito suddenly back into the fight.

"Do I need to?" Kaito blocked and parried most of the strikes, using his dual blades to full advantage. Those he couldn't defend against, he dodged, leaving Kurosaki with nothing to show for his efforts.

That answer enraged Kurosaki further, driving him to heights that actually forced Kaito to pay attention. Kaito settled into the familiar give and take of a fight, the elation of a decent spar starting to take hold in his heart. True, Kurosaki wasn't yet at Kaito's level, but he was _advancing_ , and Kaito loosened his hold over his skills slightly in response.

He drove Kurosaki back again, forcing the teen to struggle to catch back up with this new level of fighting. Determination and stubborn pride flared in the teen's eyes, a refusal to give up, to back down.

"I thought… you said… you were only… passable," Kurosaki panted out as he struggled to keep up with Kaito. Blood trailed down his arms, ragged cuts decorating his body, and his spiky hair was laying flat from sweat.

"I am." Kaito ducked under a sweep of Kurosaki's blade, scored another shallow wound across the teens chest, and moved back. "Father could win in a heartbeat against me, if he actively tried."

"Hat'n'Clogs?" Kurosaki regained his balance and resumed his attack. "He doesn't seem like much!"

Kaito couldn't help it, he roared with laughter. The very idea that Urahara was anything _but_ terrifying… well, he supposed this version of his friend hadn't yet crossed blades with the man, or even learned of his past. Frankly, Kaito thought that Urahara's ability to move around stealthily was telling enough. Yoruichi had the same skill, and he already knew that she was a previous leader of the Stealth Forces.

Kurosaki was taken aback at Kaito's reaction, and barely dodged another of Kaito's strikes, before gathering himself and attacking to take advantage of Kaito's apparently distraction.

It didn't really work. Kurosaki was getting better, Kaito could admit, but he wasn't yet on par with even some of the low-ranking arrancar. It remained child's play to weave in and out of Kurosaki's attacks, parrying and counter-attacking as he went.

"You really think he's harmless?" Kaito kicked a stone up towards Kurosaki, making the teen skip backwards and drop his guard. He took advantage of the opening to drive his sword through the muscle in Kurosaki's side, just deep enough to leave a bleeding wound, before moving back. "You really think a man who has a huge training basement, who can kick you out of your body without warning, and who deals in Shinigami goods, is harmless?"

"Er, well…" Kurosaki muttered, trying and failing to find the words to defend his snap judgment. Finally, he just shrugged and fell back into the fight, determination in every line of his body.

Kaito bared his teeth in a vicious smile, daring the other teen to do his worst. He'd run Kuroskai ragged, just see if he didn't.

* * *

"I appear to have been right," Kaito teased Kurosaki when he finally allowed the other to stop. He slung his blades across his back, instead of letting them just dissolve away, and took in the mess he had made of the past version of his friend.

Kurosaki was nearly bent in half, hands on his knees, panting in a desperate attempt to catch his breath. Blood ran down the teen's body, his shihakushou torn and ragged from all the blows Kaito had landed. In contrast, Kaito felt fine, if mildly winded from the length of time they'd been fighting. His jinbei had a few tears in it, from strikes that Kurosaki had almost managed to land, but other than that…

"Sh-shut up," Kurosaki panted, then straightened up and pointed at Kaito. "I almost got you at the end!"

"But you didn't." Kaito tucked his hands away in his sleeves and turned back towards the ladder and his gigai. "And I still wasn't moving as quickly as I could."

"What?" Kurosaki yelped and hurried to catch up with Kaito. "The hell do you mean by that?"

Kaito turned his head slightly to smirk at the teen. "Are you deaf? I said you never managed to push me to my limit, Kurosaki-san."

Kurosaki's glower was an amusing sight to see, edged in frustration and that driving urge to get stronger that Kaito had always admired about Ichigo. Still, the teen didn't say anything as Kaito slipped back into his gigai and the two of them started to climb up the great ladder back to the shop.

"So how did it go?" Urahara asked in curiosity when he let them back up. He eyed both of them, taking in the wounds on Kurosaki and Kaito's rather unruffled appearance.

"He could be better," Kaito replied with a shrug. He turned to the shogi door that separated the public shop from the private residence. "Come along, Kurosaki-san, I'm sure Tsukabishi-san will heal the damage I did to your body, though he can't do anything about that pride of yours."

Kurosaki's sputtered denials followed him through the doorway and down the hall to the kitchen, where he paused at the doorway and knocked gently on the frame beside him, catching Tsukabishi's attention.

"Ah, Kaito-kun," Tsukabishi said, as he dusted off his hands and turned around. "The boss warned me what you were up to. Do either of you require healing?"

"Yes, please," Kaito answered with a gesture behind him to where Kurosaki was lurking uncomfortably, clearly trying not to bleed all over the floor. "I'm afraid I did a bit of a number on him."

Tsukabishi tisked as he moved past Kaito and started to look Kurosaki over, herding the teen into an empty room where he could concentrate on healing the other without worry.

Kaito took a moment to enter the kitchen and rifle through the fridge, collecting a few snacks that he could share with Kurosaki. He knew that he had worked up an appetite, even if he hadn't been going all out, so Kurosaki was surely hungry as well.

Satisfied with his haul, Kaito turned and entered the room Tsukabishi had herded the other into.

"Here." Kaito thrust an anpan towards Kurosaki, who was sitting up and healed thanks to Tsukabishi's kido.

Kurosaki accepted the treat with a muttered thanks and bit into it.

"Do try not to spoil your appetite," Tsukabishi reminded Kaito gently as he walked out the door. "Dinner is in an hour."

The two of them ate their treats in comfortable silence. Kaito was content in the presence of the past version of his friend, even if he'd not have the same relationship with the other this time around. This tentative friendship was more than he had hoped for this early; he could accept being a sparring partner, instead of a somewhat friendly rival.

"Hey, thanks," Kurosaki repeated, breaking the silence between them. At Kaito's questioning look, he grimaced and looked away. "For sparring with me, I mean. For helping me get stronger."

Kaito studied Kurosaki for a long moment in silence, then nodded his acceptance. "If I'm not here, father usually knows where I can be found."

Kurosaki shot him a confused look for a brief moment, before it cleared and understanding flooded in. A tiny shift in the teen's expression let Kaito know that the offer was understood and appreciated.

(*Y'know, I think it's a bit creepy how close you watch me,*) Ichigo offered with amusement.

( _*You realize most of your friends can read you exactly the same,*_ ) Kaito retorted, refusing to be embarrassed by it at all. ( _*It's rather necessary considering how you normally act.*_ )

"Why don't you help out?" Kurosaki's voice was curious but not accusatory, and nothing about his expression hinted at annoyance.

Kaito shrugged, dusted his hands off, and folded them back into his sleeves. "I'm not a Shinigami, and I don't want to attract attention to myself or anyone here by doing the tasks of one."

"So you're not the one who keeps getting rid of the Hollows before Rukia and I get there?"

Kaito blinked then shook his head. "No. Even when I'm out exploring the town, I don't get involved."

( _*Guess my past self is already trying to show your past self up,*_ ) Kaito mused to Ichigo. He turned to look out the window, wondering where the prideful teen currently was, but not curious enough to sense the other out.

"But you know who's doing it!" Kurosaki scrambled to his feet and attempted to loom over Kaito. "What's going on?"

Kaito arched an eyebrow and shoved Kurosaki out of his personal space. "Kindly refrain from your alpha posturing when I can still kick your ass across the training ground. Even if I knew for certain what was going on, why would I tell you? It's none of my business what you get into so long as the rest of the town isn't endangered."

Kaito ignored the stubborn set in Kurosaki's jaw and left the room, though he was privately amused when Kurosaki trailed after him like a stubborn puppy.

"Ah, Kaito, could you help Jinta and Ururu finish tidying the shop?" Urahara asked when Kaito stepped through the door back into the shop, still followed by Kurosaki.

Kaito nodded in acceptance and moved down to Ururu's side to help the young girl in her tasks. She was quite a bit stronger than he had ever expected, but she was still a young girl and couldn't quite reach everything easily.

And, of course, the less said about Jinta's work ethic the better.

He registered Kurosaki leaving the shoten and heading off into the early evening, but didn't spare the teen much more than an absent nod as the other departed. He had work to do and Jinta to corral since Tsukabishi was busy elsewhere.

* * *

Kaito took to wandering the streets of Karakura in the early evenings, just after dinner. He didn't often remain out for long, his limbs ached too much most days for more than a short stroll, but he had to train himself out of his hesitance. Events were coming to a head, and he couldn't afford to remain hiding behind the Urahara Shoten's walls.

That resolve didn't help against seeing Inoue bounding out of a shop, clutching a shopping bag of food as she chattered happily to Arisawa. Kaito set his back against a wall, pressed a hand to his chest, and counted each breath. In and out, in and out, every breath a victory over the iron bands that had tightened at the sight of Inoue's cheerful expression. With effort, he tore his gaze away from her and stared up at the darkening sky.

He refused to allow that cheerful expression to fade once more into tears and _why-please-tell-me-why_ and screams of denial. He would kill Aizen, long before the man ever got it into his head to abduct Inoue and hold her hostage. He would _annihilate_ the man if he ever even looked at Inoue, he swore. Because Ichigo had died of the man's manipulations, but Inoue had been _shattered_ and Kaito would never forgive him for either outcome.

"Oh, hello! Are you new here?"

Kaito startled and jerked away, slipping around the corner of the building he was leaning against and taking a stable stance feet away from where he had started. When his mind finally caught up with his instincts, Kaito stared blankly at the gobsmacked look on Inoue's face as she took in the distance he had moved when she startled him.

"Ah, sorry about that," Kaito tried to excuse himself awkwardly as he forced his hands to relax and folded them away in the sleeves of his kimono. "I'm afraid I wasn't really paying attention."

"That's alright!" Inoue crossed the distance between them and grinned up at him, giving a small wave with her free hand. "Hi! My name is Inoue Orihime, and this is Arisawa Tatsuki!"

"Urahara Kaito," Kaito introduced himself in return. "And yes, I recently arrived here."

"Huh, I haven't seen you in school," Arisawa said, suspicion heavy in her voice. She took a protective stance at Inoue's shoulder, clearly deeming Kaito a threat.

Kaito shook his head, glad of the fiction that had been built for him. He didn't think he could survive going to class, trying to pretend that everything was alright and that he didn't already know many of the people there. It would be even worse if he was stuck in class I-3 with the rest of the group, having to watch his past self stand aloof, and the horrible excuses given every time Kurosaki and Kuchiki ran out to deal with a Hollow.

"I'm home schooled," Kaito informed Arisawa with a touch of defensiveness. He didn't know how Arisawa viewed home schooling, but he'd already run into a few adults who took offense at the thought.

"Why's that?" Inoue asked, all cheer and innocent curiosity.

"My education has been spotty throughout my life," Kaito replied, the lie laying heavy on his tongue even as he spoke it. But he couldn't quite say 'because I come from months ahead of you and would be bored out of my mind, not to mention constantly on edge from being around everyone at once'. That just wasn't something any sane person would accept — which, he realized, neatly ruled Inoue out, she was just crazy enough to love the idea of it. He still remembered catching sight of her 'what I want to be in the future' drawing. "I'm ahead in some subjects and behind in others. So father decided that I would be home schooled for now."

Arisawa eyed him warily, as if sensing that he was lying, but to Kaito's relief she said nothing to that effect. Though she did gently tug Inoue out of his personal space, which helped relax him. He'd grown used to Inoue's habits before, but for now, with the memory of sand and tears and screams of denial loud in his head, Kaito was not feeling up to handling it.

"Oh, that's too bad!" Inoue chattered, apparently not noticing as Arisawa continued to hold her away from Kaito. "Would you like to come over? I can make us something, and Tatsuki can invite some people over, and you can meet at least some people from school! It must be lonely, not knowing anyone your age, and not going to school so you can't meet anyone!"

"Let the man think, Orihime," Arisawa lightly scolded her friend, with a sideways glance at Kaito who had tensed up at the idea of being in a small space with _people Inoue knew_ , which meant _people he knew_. "We did just meet him, after all."

"O-oh! S-sorry!" Inoue replied with a blush while she bowed in apology to Kaito. "I didn't… I mean… Sorry!"

Kaito forced himself to relax. Inoue had been genuine with her offer, being her naturally kind self that saw her incapable of harming even her enemies. She had no idea how such an offer twisted up his insides with the start of a panic ( _he wasn't ready, he wasn't ready,_ _ **he wasn't ready!**_ ). "It's alright, but I'm afraid I should be getting back to the shoten before too long."

"Oh," Inoue sighed, practically drooping with disappointment at her plans being foiled so easily.

Kaito twitched, trying to resist the urge to give in. He glanced at Arisawa, silently trying to convey a request for help. This Inoue wasn't _his_ Inoue, but he still felt helpless to resist when she turned that sad gaze upon him.

"How about this weekend?" Arisawa spoke up, directing her words at Inoue through she kept her gaze steady on Kaito. "We can have a picnic in the park, and invite our friends from school."

"That would be wonderful!" Inoue cheered. She clasped her hands in front of her, eyes widening into a pleading expression that she directed fully at Kaito. "Please?"

Kaito wavered, torn between accepting and bowing out, but felt his resolving crumbling under Inoue's pleading expression. With a sigh, he nodded once. "Very well. What time?"

"How about three on Saturday?" Arisawa suggested before Inoue could say anything. "That will give us time to get everything ready after school."

Kaito nodded in acceptance, then slumped against the wall again in relief when Arisawa dragged Inoue away.

( _*How do I get myself into these things?*_ ) Kaito asked Ichigo plaintively as he slowly pushed himself away from the wall and moved to head back to the shop. He didn't feel like being outside anymore, not after that unexpected meeting. ( _*Do I just have this 'pay attention to me!' vibe around me this time?*_ )

(*Orihime is a force of nature,*) Ichigo reminded him. (*I couldn't say no to her, and I never saw anyone at the Shoten say no either, so…*)

Kaito mulled that thought over. It was true, he supposed. He had only refused her offer to train with her and Chad because he wanted no one to see his training with the Sanrei glove.

Absently, he returned Urahara's cheerful greeting with a wave, making his way through the private sections of the building and to his room. He spread his futon out on auto-pilot, mind buzzing with thoughts.

He had a picnic to go to on Saturday, and the only saving grace he could think of was that it would be outside. At least then he could slip away for a few moments to himself it it all became too much.

* * *

Kaito paused at the edge of the park, eyes scanning the area that he could see, trying to find the group that Inoue had likely bullied into attending. He was already a few minutes late, having had to bite back a small panic attack and convince himself that, no, skipping without warning was _not acceptable_. He reached out with his senses, searching for the signatures that he was aware of, and found them a bit deeper in the park.

It was only the knowledge that Inoue would hunt him down and _pout_ at him that kept him from turning tail and retreating at the last minute. So he took a deep breath, reminded himself of the trouble she'd gone through just for a person she didn't know, and made his way through the park until he reached the group.

"There you are!" Inoue hurried over to his side the moment he came into view, grinning brightly. "I was worried you wouldn't make it!"

"My apologies," Kaito said a bit stiffly. "I was helping with the inventory and lost track of time."

"That's alright." Inoue beckoned for him to follow her back to the others. "Guys! This is the person I wanted you all to meet. This is Urahara Kaito — he's new to town and is home schooled, so I thought it would be nice if he knew some people his age!"

Kaito swept his gaze over the gathered group, and was thankful that Inoue hadn't managed to collect the entirety of her class. Though he hadn't interacted with many of them beyond the occasional word, that many familiar faces at once would have been a bit too much for him to handle.

"Eh? You're _our_ age?!" Kurosaki exclaimed from his seat on the ground.

Kaito shot the teen a scowl, carefully _not looking_ at Sado who was seated next to him. "Of course I am. How old do I _look_ anyway?"

That, Kaito was well aware, was a trick question for poor Kurosaki, and he let a tiny smirk cross his expression.

(*That, was cruel,*) Ichigo told him with amusement. (*Are you aware how many times I got in trouble with Rukia over the age thing?*)

( _*Not enough, from the way your past self is currently choking on his own spit.*_ )

Kuchiki had driven her elbow into Kurosaki's side the moment the teen went to open his mouth and reply, leaving him sputtering and trying to catch the breath that had been driven from his lungs.

"You two know each other?" Inoue asked as she came back over, offering up a plate of various finger foods and treats.

"We've met," Kaito replied with a nod. "He and Kuchiki have come to the Urahara Shoten a few times."

Kaito examined the offered treats, then plucked up a riceball that he was (mostly) certain showed no sign of Inoue's creative talents. A careful bite proved him right, the taste of umeboshi (pickled plums) filling his mouth instead of… whatever she was currently on about at this time.

"Oh, good!" Inoue chirped, before she started introducing the rest of the people that were sitting around the blanket. "Next to Kurosaki Ichigo is Sado Yasutora, then Asano Keigo and Kojima Mizuiro. You already know Arisawa Tatsuki, and next to her is Honshou Chizuru. I would have invited more, but Tatsuki said not to."

Kaito glanced at Arisawa, who was currently grinding her knuckles into Honshou's hair, and tried to convey his thanks with a small nod. He was unsure if she even saw it, because she didn't react visibly, but it wouldn't be the first time he had noticed Arisawa brushing aside thanks like that.

He drifted over to Kurosaki and Kuchiki, being the only two he was currently acquainted with in this time, and settled down a short distance from them. The others chattered and laughed around him, and Kaito listened with only half an ear, filing most of it away as the usual shenanigans and crazy that surrounded this group. Even without spiritual powers and the insanity that seemed par for the course with it, there was plenty of 'normal' insanity running through this group.

Slowly, a knot untied itself from around his chest. The way the group just dealt with him in their midst, talking over and around and occasionally tossing a crazy comment his way, just soothed away the last traces of his earlier panic. Even when he finally forced himself to look directly at Sado, nothing more than a brief pain stirred, despite his last memory of Sado being of a broken, bloody body that Inoue was piecing back together.

Here, now, everyone was cheerful and happy and Kaito would be _damned_ before he let this slip through his hands again.

( ***'Bout goddamn time, Koneko!*** ) Shiro growled, a pleased edge to his tone that trumped even the tone the spirit had used when Kaito won his sword. ( ***This's what'cha wanna protect, so protect it!*** )

Kaito nodded sharply. Shiro was right, he'd been letting himself wallow even while he tried to advance. No more. There was no room for hesitance, not if he wanted to keep this small group safe and whole.

* * *

 **Another chapter done! And Uryuu/Kaito shows that Urahara is indeed contagious when living in close proximity to him for long periods of time, especially when pretending to be the man's son. At this point, we're pretty much done with pre-invasion stuff, minus the 'contest' between past-Uryuu and past-Ichigo.**

 **On another note, I've recently posted an AU of this story, called "A Dragon Flaps Its Wings" that sends Uryuu back to Turn Back the Pendulum era instead. Give it a read if that sounds interesting!**


	12. The Last Moment of Calm

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and those people/companies that publish Bleach. I own nothing except my meagre attempts at playing in his sandbox.

Warnings: Pretty much everybody's mouth, described violence (it IS Bleach, after all), unbetaed

Posted by accident over on AO3, so enjoy this chapter a day early!

( _Everything's green_ ) - Subconscious flow of thoughts  
( _*Why is everything green?*_ ) - Uryuu actively thinking  
(*Because it is.*) - Ichigo actively thinking  
( ***Who th'hell cares?!*** ) - Shiro actively thinking  
( _*Peace, hollow.*_ ) - Old Man Zangetsu actively thinking

* * *

Time slipped by, and Kaito threw himself headfirst into training with Yoruichi and Urahara, and sparring with Kurosaki. The approaching deadline loomed in his mind, casting a pall over things he might otherwise have found enjoyable, but Kaito refused to let that stand in his way. He would gain as much strength as possible, train as hard and as long as he could, in order to _flatten_ Aizen when he faced the man.

Urahara just seemed amused at his newfound determination.

Or maybe, Kaito realized, as he slid open his bedroom door and caught sight of something sitting on the floor just outside his door, the man was amused at Kaito's mimicry of him. A striped bucket hat and a folding fan, exactly like the ones Urahara carried but for their color, sat innocently right in front of him. The objects were done in blue instead of green, matching the blue that Kaito most often wore around the shop.

(*I warned you,*) Ichigo said cheerfully. (*I warned you he was taking too much amusement from the way you teased my past self!*)

( _*We'll see about that,*_ ) Kaito growled, as he swept the offending items up and stalked off to the breakfast table. The minute he entered the room, he walked up behind Urahara, dropped the blue and white hat atop Urahara's own hat, and allowed the blue fan to land in the man's lap. Mission accomplished, Kaito sat down in his spot, giving Urahara a _look_ as he did.

"Mou, Kaito-kun, don't you appreciate my gifts?" Urahara asked, tone sad despite the glitter of amusement in his eyes.

Kaito snorted and served himself some food. "No, I don't. Just because I'm your son doesn't make me your mini-me. Please desist in attempting to make me one."

(*Uh-oh,*) Ichigo mumbled, as the two of them caught the wicked glint that appeared in Urahara's eyes.

Kaito braced himself, wondering exactly what would happen this time.

Urahara exploded into motion, leaping up from the table and sweeping a feline Yoruichi into his arms and holding her above his head. "Yoruichi-saaaaaaan! My son no longer loves meee!"

Kaito just stared in shock, absently registering Yoruichi's protestations and Urahara's continued wailing about being a 'bad father', while Ichigo snarled and snapped about there being two Goat-faces now and one was already too much and—

"Wait," Kaito murmured aloud, too surprised by the drama going on in front of him to keep his comments internal. "That's what your father does?"

(*Yes. Constantly. Always. Damnit, I knew Hat'n'Clogs wasn't just going to let it go with that one wake up call!*)

"Ichigo, I am so… so sorry," Kaito decided after a moment's thought, as the production just… continued on. Now with blood flying thanks to Yoruichi unsheathing her claws and laying into Urahara in another attempt to free herself.

(*Yeah…*)

Decision made, Kaito bolted the rest of his food, thanked Tsukabishi softly, and escaped from the Shoten. There was no way he was sticking around to watch the end of that, quality train-wreck or not. He could afford to miss a day of training.

* * *

Kaito spent the next few hours just wandering the town, honing his ability to sense beyond his massive reserves by tracking his past self. He'd been working on that for weeks, and was finally almost as accurate as he had originally been at this point in time. It was crude compared to what he had become by that final day, but Kaito would take what he could get, and right now being _not blind_ was several hundred steps above where he had started.

A downside of that training, however, was that Ichigo had started to pick up exactly _how often_ Ishida was interfering with Kurosaki's duties. And, not being an idiot despite what Kaito liked to imply, what that meant about what _he_ had done to _Ichigo._

(*I can't believe you were _stalking_ me!* )

( _*I was not!*_ ) Kaito replied with affront. ( _*I was trying to prove how incompetent you were!*_ )

(*By stalking me!*)

Kaito grit his teeth and reined in his temper. There was a grain of truth in Ichigo's accusations, even if it hadn't always been intentional. Really, there were only so many routes to and from school that each of them could take. And Ichigo had been incredibly easy to sense, his cascading reiatsu and bold nature a beacon against the ambient reishi of the town. Looking in on it from the outside, he could tell that part of the issue was how _magnetic_ Ichigo was. Bold and full of life and so very, very powerful that he had fallen into the teen's orbit before he even realized it.

He wondered how his presence would affect that for his past self.

Ishida's reiatsu rose sharply, flaring out to confront Kurosaki's in a spike of power that easily drew Kaito from his musing. Was this…

Yes. A lance of power shot out, skewering a Hollow as soon as it appeared.

Kaito tilted his head back to stare blankly at the sky. He remembered this day, this confrontation, and how it left him with a cold rage in his heart. How it drove him to loot his grandfather's old Quincy gear. How it led to endangering the entire town.

(*Your past self is still an arrogant asshole, y'know?*) Ichigo commented casually, breaking him free of the tendrils of memory. (*Though I wonder why he's picking on my past self still, when we're around?*)

( _*We haven't done much of anything,*_ ) Kaito reminded Ichigo. ( _*He saw us knocked out of our gigai exactly once, at which point we took down a Hollow in short order. Unlike many of your fights at this point.*_ )

(*Heh, yeah.*) Ichigo sighed and conceded the point. (*I guess that's pretty much true. I wonder how much trouble I put Hat'n'Clogs through, with all the stuff that got damaged.*)

( _*I don't know,*_ ) Kaito answered with a shrug. He'd never actually considered that before, either the first time around or now, still too caught up in his own troubles to pay that much attention to the town at large. If he had to be honest, even his desire to see the challenge done away with was less a desire to see the town safe and more to assuage the guilt he still felt at Ichigo's words to him so long ago.

Kaito approached the Shoten, ignoring the way Jinta stuck his tongue out at him as he crossed the small yard, and returning Ururu's soft hello with a nod.

Things were going to get violent, and he couldn't help but _long_ for that. This, more than anything, was what brought Aizen within reach, and he was looking forward to it with a cold _glee_ that seemed more appropriate for Shiro than himself.

"Oh? You're home early," Urahara remarked from his seat at the back of the shop.

Kaito crossed the shop in silence, toeing his shoes off before moving onto the raised floor and sitting a short distance from Urahara. He folded his hands in his lap, though he couldn't quite keep himself from fiddling with the hem of his sleeves. Urahara had made him _promise_ to discuss his plans before he acted if he had time, but the words remained stuck in his throat, unwilling to be given voice.

How long had it been since he actually went to an adult for advice, for help? Not just for training, or a signature, but actual help?

It was, he realized with a touch of shock, an occurrence that was becoming more common the longer he pretended to be Urahara Kaito. Years of ignoring his father and going to the man only when there was no other option, and a few weeks under Urahara's roof had him starting to look towards the exiled Shinigami as someone who could help. It wasn't that Urahara would _fix_ things, it was that the man would direct him, show him where he'd gone wrong, give him suggestions to try.

Urahara remained silent, though Kaito could feel the sidelong glance the other was giving him. It was clear the man would wait as long as necessary for him to speak, since Kaito didn't seem to be in a rush or otherwise troubled.

That willingness, along with Kaito's realization, eased the knot in his chest and the words finally came. "If things follow as I remember, Ishida will use Hollow Bait tomorrow."

Urahara made a thoughtful noise, pulling his fan free to toy with as he considered Kaito's words. "I had thought all of that destroyed."

Kaito shook his head, remembering the locked room filled with stacks of supplies. "Ryuuken has a store of Quincy things locked away in a storage room under the hospital. There's a box of Hollow Bait among the things."

"What do you plan to do?"

"I plan to interfere," Kaito replied firmly, unwilling to be dissuaded from that path. "The bait draws too many Hollows to be natural, even accounting for Kurosaki's unrestrained reiatsu."

"You'll catch Aizen's interest if you do that," Urahara warned him. "He could decide you're too much of a danger to allow to live."

Kaito looked down at his hands, his fingers clenched tight around the hems of his sleeves, and considered that warning. It was true. Getting involved meant drawing attention, but this was long before Aizen gained the mastery of the Hougyoku. He had nearly fought Aizen to a standstill in the man's 'evolved' form, even with poor control and the inability to use bankai himself.

"I just won't show everything I'm capable of," Kaito resolved, his voice steady. It was a danger, but he just had to make sure Aizen never caught him with his shikai. "If Ishida manages to break the bait, having another fighter around will restrict the damage I recall. I'll be… Urahara Kaito. Just another capable but not outstanding fighter. Aizen will lump me in with the rest of Kurosaki's companions, even with being your son. In… in my timeline, even at the end, Aizen barely acknowledged me, and then only because he sensed Ichigo inside me."

He could feel Urahara's gaze on him, steady and weighted. Kaito forced himself to not fidget under that scrutiny, though he couldn't bring himself to face the other. What must the man see, he wondered. Did he see a child, trying desperately to be an adult? Could he see how terrified Kaito was of failure? Of having to face a second death of his only friend, of watching his world _burn_ and _crumble to pieces_ once more?

"You'll need to make sure you show nothing I could not have taught you," Urahara spoke, words coming slow and weighted. "A Shinigami with Quincy skills will draw his curiosity."

Kaito winced, hands clenching so tightly that his knuckles flushed white and his fingers started to go cold. "He's not the one I'm afraid of in that regard."

"Kaito?"

He gathered the shards of his temper close, holding the jagged bits in a tight grasp before he forgot himself and lashed out. He had never told Urahara how his merging with Ichigo had come about, only that it had happened. And he had never spoken to anyone of what _that man_ had said during their confrontation in Soul Society. Perhaps that had been wrong of him, but… it had always felt like it was _his_ burden to bear, his knowledge to hold and act upon.

And he hadn't acted upon it. Even back then, he knew the dangers of killing a Captain, no matter how much his soul screamed for vengeance. He was a nothing in the eyes of the Shinigami, and Kurotsuchi was a Captain, powerful and feared, if not entirely respected.

"Kurotsuchi Mayuri is the… the reason I'm like _this_ ," Kaito forced the words through a suddenly clumsy tongue. "And… he taunted me, once, about how he had… captured the souls of Quincies that came to Soul Society and… effectively tortured them in the name of 'research'."

Insidious, poisonous _rage_ coiled through the room, making the breath freeze in Kaito's throat and his muscles seize in fright. Urahara was suddenly _terrifying_ , a predator that could snuff him out in a heartbeat, and Kaito found himself praying that he never incited that rage against _himself._ He counted the seconds, struggling to stay perfectly still and uninteresting to the beast in Urahara's place. There was no 'fight or flight', only 'freeze or die'.

As quickly as it spread, the feeling retreated. Kaito slumped forward, taking in great gulps of air as quickly and silently as he could while his muscles trembled in reaction. His mind was silent, even Shiro holding his peace in the face of what they had just experienced. Kaito tried to gauge if he should attempt to retreat; that was not a reaction he had expected. Even Aizen hadn't incited such towering rage, no matter what the man taunted and teased Urahara about.

"Is Uryuu in danger?" Urahara asked, his voice so cold that Kaito shivered despite the warmth of the day.

"No," he quickly reassured the man, hoping Urahara would accept his word. "No, he told me that he was… finished with his research on Quincies."

Then tension in Urahara's frame decreased slightly at that reassurance, though his gaze was still sharp, still hard with restrained rage, when he fixed Kaito with a look. "And you?"

"I am… unsure," Kaito admitted reluctantly, as he fought the urge to look away from Urahara's piercing stare. He braced himself for the rage that was sure to flare at his next words. "The version of him that… did this to me was interested in… in studying it."

This time, the rising rage didn't catch him off guard. What _did_ was the way it coiled around him, fierce and protective, all the rage turned outward and touching him only peripherally. Kaito shoved aside the tiny flare of warmth that bloomed at the proof that Urahara counted him among those he would defend, and tried to convince himself that he didn't care. But it was hard in the face of the sheer protective rage that Urahara was displaying, even as the man reeled in his reiatsu once more.

"You will not be going back to Soul Society," Urahara said, his words clipped and abrupt.

"I will," Kaito retorted, gathering all his resolve close. This was one thing he refused to back down on. Not only did the invasion of Soul Society get him close to Aizen in the moment the traitor revealed himself, but there were so many points where things could go _wrong._ They had been so lucky the first time, and Kaito couldn't take the chance that something he had done had _changed_ that luck. "I beat him once, as a pure Quincy, and this time I know the secret to killing him for good. If he comes after me, _I will be ready_ , and I will not stay my hand this time."

Even if that would draw the ire of the Shinigami upon him. Better the clean death the other Captains would grant him, than the torture Korutsuchi would heap upon him. He would just have to make sure, if it came to that, that he died _before_ Kurosaki heard about it.

(*Won't matter,*) Ichigo growled darkly. (*You think any version of me would just let a friend _die_ like that?* )

( _*What makes you think I'll give your other self a choice, if it comes down to it?*_ ) Kaito snapped back. ( _*If my hand is forced, I'll take Kurotsuchi down, then kill Aizen the second I get a chance.*_ )

(*We could do that anyway,*) Ichigo replied thoughtfully, sidestepping Kaito's comment about not giving his past self a choice. They both knew the words were empty; Ichigo himself would stand between Kaito and death, likely buying his past self time to intervene with another rescue. (*He already fakes his death, so we could just… make it real.*)

( _*We could,*_ ) Kaito agreed, allowing the change of conversation to stand. He had no desire to get into a fight with Ichigo, not over something his friend had already set his heart on. The only thing that remained was to see that it never came down to those choices. ( _*They wouldn't expect it, would they? We'd just need to… hunt him down. An arrow through the head from close range, and he'd never be a danger again.*_ )

"You're plotting something," Urahara broke in, his voice steely. "Tell me."

Kaito narrowed his eyes at the man and struggled with himself for a moment, before sighing. He had promised, after all, and no matter what else happened, he tried to keep his promises.

"Aizen fakes his death during our invasion of Soul Society," Kaito explained. "I just need to hunt him down—"

"You can't," Urahara interrupted. His eyes narrowed dangerously when Kaito moved to protest, and he continued, " _No._ You will _listen to me_. **Who is blamed for his death?** "

Kaito hesitated a moment, dredging up everything he remembered about that time. His stomach started to twist into knots as he saw what Urahara was directing him towards, and Ichigo's answering unease told him the other had seen it too. Their desire for revenge had blinded them to a simple truth. "It's… blamed on different people. A distraction by Aizen. But… but the invaders are suspected by many."

"And how did you plan to kill him?" Urahara continued ruthlessly.

Kaito felt cold, unable to stop himself from mechanically answering, "An arrow through the head."

"Ah, yes. An arrow. Which leaves two options for a source at best. Perhaps only one if you manage to keep your Quincy skills under wraps."

"Ishida Uryuu," Kaito finished.

"One of the last remaining Quincies, a race already in Soul Society's bad graces, and by that point an active fighter and a presumed murderer of a beloved Captain. Do I need to continue?"

Kaito felt sick, chilled to the bone and with a roiling stomach at the thought of what he had almost committed himself to. Even if he changed the method of death, fingers would still automatically point at the invaders. He wasn't capable of mimicking one of the other Captains, a Hollow attack wouldn't be believed, and to have Aizen be discovered dead in a different place and manner than the fake death that had started the distraction…

Ichigo had fought several Captains to a standstill during the invasion. A death by blade would point the blame straight at _him_ instead of Ishida.

(*We were lucky,*) Ichigo miserably concluded, his guilt palpable. (*In our invasion, I mean. I… I never really thought about it, but… Aizen's great reveal about his intentions, and the discovery that Central 46 was murdered by the traitor, and the fact that none of us killed anyone…*)

( _*Yeah,*_ ) Kaito was forced to agree, thinking back to that chaotic event. If Aizen had been discovered even an hour later, so much damage would have been done by the infighting that the man could have just conquered the whole place then and there. At the very least, trust would have been deeply harmed between many of the strongest fighters, harm that would have kept them from fighting at their best later on.

An arm wrapped over his shoulders, and a warm hand gently grabbed his head and tucked it into Urahara's shoulder. Kaito allowed it without resisting, still trying to swallow back bile at what his desire for revenge had almost driven him to.

"I hate this," Urahara murmured softly, as he shifted to lean back slightly without letting Kaito go. "Knowing where my actions are going to lead, and how so much of your survival seemed to depend upon luck. I want to scrap all my plans, but I can't see any other viable options. So all I can do is help you plan, to minimize the chance of things getting even worse."

Kaito swallowed past the sick feeling in his chest, and nodded into the soft fabric of Urahara's coat. It was true, and he was only starting to realize that himself. Everything they had done, everything they had overcome… how much of that was just _luck_ and being underestimated?

He had the strength to destroy their opposition now, a strength gained far too late to do any real good, and he was now restricted in what he could safely do without bringing ruin upon the past versions of his friends. How could he win? How could he _annihilate_ that traitor without drawing undue attention?

Urahara finally released him, allowing Kaito to sit back upright, but didn't move away or pull his coiling reiatsu back. Instead, it remained wrapped around Kaito protectively, like an intangible shield against the world.

Kaito took a breath and held it. Counted to ten. Released his breath. He didn't bother to pretend that Urahara's reiatsu wasn't calming, that he wasn't taking comfort in the almost foreign knowledge that someone actually gave enough of a damn to point out his mistakes and help him work around them.

"Hueco Mundo," Kaito eventually said, once he'd gotten himself under control again.

"Pardon?"

He bit his lip, trying to remember everything he could about the aftermath of the invasion. He hadn't paid much attention to anything, really, too concerned first with his lack of power, and then with _regaining_ that power, but he was certain of at least one thing.

"After Aizen leaves Soul Society, it's another… two or three months before he does anything visibly."

Urahara made a thoughtful sound, his fan making another appearance as he started to snap it open and closed. "Yes, I think I could see that… you intend to invade and kill him in that pause, before he has a chance to awaken the Hougyoku."

Kaito nodded, "If I can't kill him in Soul Society, then… then I think that's the next best time."

(*You could kill him after he makes his 'hi, I was secretly evil the entire time' speech?*) Ichigo suggested.

( _*Is there a moment when I could without endangering too many people?*_ )

Ichigo retreated into thought, dredging up what he recalled. (*I… think so? He announces things, and gets into a bit of a scuffle with the other Captains before the negacion appears.*)

Urahara pulled him from his thoughts again by poking him with his fan, then raising an eyebrow in question.

"I might be able to kill Aizen in Soul Society, after he announces himself," Kaito spoke slowly, putting his thoughts into order as he spoke. "I wasn't there for that fight, so I'm not sure…"

"Hmm," Urahara pondered the choices, gaze turning distant as he ran through the options. "How well do you want it known what you did? Because killing him in Hueco Mundo will offer you anonymity, and killing him in Soul Society will mean the Captains will become aware of your strength right then."

"That's true," Kaito responded with a frown. Did he really want the Captains being aware that he could just… kill one of them? Because he had no doubt that he could, at this point in time, fight at least the younger ones to a standstill if not outright kill a few of them. Add to that the fiction they were building, that Kaito was Urahara's son…. He sighed. "Hueco Mundo is probably the better option. I'd rather they not take my strength the wrong way, especially with our story."

Urahara inclined his head in acceptance. Their fiction truly was a double-edged blade. It gave Kaito just enough legitimacy to keep him under the radar of those he had to interact with here in the Living World, but in Seireitei that same legitimacy would brand him in an unfriendly light to those who knew the crimes Urahara was accused of.

He would probably need to be silent about his family name while in Soul Society, Kaito decided after another moment of thought. Not deny it, just not… speak it aloud. Hopefully he could convince the others to use some other manner of address. Kurosaki would use his personal name no matter what, and Inoue and Sado would do the same if he gave them permission, but could he convince his past self to do the same?

(*Just tell him that you want to avoid notice,*) Ichigo suggested. (*That 'Urahara' is a dangerous name to claim in Soul Society.*)

Kaito considered it, then nodded. He could see himself unbending enough to do that for a short time, just to get one over on the Shinigami. At Urahara's look, Kaito shrugged and said, "Considering how to convince Ishida to use my name instead of my family name while we're in Soul Society. I'd rather pass under the radar as much as possible."

"You know the older Captains who knew me won't take more than a few minutes to place you," Urahara told him. "Family name or not, you do look quite like me with your hair and eyes like that, and your changed reiatsu is enough damning evidence on its own."

"Then I'll just have to avoid them," Kaito replied. "I'd want to avoid most of them anyway, since they're either traitors or people I'd really rather not fight."

Urahara considered him for a moment, then nodded. "Channel a bit of your reiatsu into your pendant whenever you need to hide. It's not as good as the cloak I made, but it will to hide your reiatsu a bit more than you're currently capable of on your own. I wouldn't trust it in the face of the eldest four, especially Unohana-taicho or the Soutaicho, but in a pinch it should help you stay out of their sight."

Kaito's hand raised to touch the point on his chest where the pendant lay in his spirit form. He hadn't realized Urahara had layered so many things into it, and so quickly at that. The man's genius constantly caught him off guard, and Kaito had to wonder if he would have become resentful of the man if the story they had woven was actually true. He had always prided himself in his intelligence, but the sheer genius that Urahara constantly displayed as casually as another person would breathe just… completely blew past his own strengths.

Or maybe he wouldn't have, Kaito mused, as Yoruichi wandered into the shop and Urahara leapt up to sweep her feline body into his arms, acting just like a regular cat owner overjoyed to see their pet return. The man was just so adept at drawing attention away from his abilities that sometimes it was hard to keep in mind everything he had done.

He shook his head, trying to dislodge those thoughts from his mind. What did it matter how he would have thought of Urahara? He wasn't the man's actual son, so thoughts like that had no bearing upon his current life.

Quietly, he excused himself to return to his room, wanting some time to himself to meditate and get his thoughts back in order. He didn't have time to moon-calf about. Tomorrow would begin the act that brought about Aizen's downfall, and Kaito could hardly wait.

* * *

Kaito leaned against the decorative pillar, holding his reiatsu in as tightly as he could and channeling a bit into the pendant about his neck to further shield himself. He'd asked Urahara to free him for this interaction, not willing to trust to chance if he wore the pendant on his gigai.

He was hidden on the private side of the low wall where he remembered the confrontation beginning, and was trusting his in advanced speed to see him up and over before the other two had a chance to react to his appearance. The plan was rather loose, because everything revolved around his ability to pull the bait from Ishida's fingers without crushing it in the process. Even if it meant his nakama wasn't quite as strong as a result, Kaito still refused to allow things to progress as he remembered happening. With luck, their strength wouldn't be necessary anyway.

He took a calming breath, clenched his hands briefly, then forced himself to relax as he felt his past self approaching with Kurosaki following behind. ( _*Here we go.*_ )

"Are you going to follow me all the way home, Ichigo Kurosaki?" Ishida questioned coolly, as he stopped walking on the other side of the decorative wall.

(*You sound… different from him,*) Ichigo mused while they listened to the barely civil banter between their past selves. (*More relaxed, for one.*)

( _*I've lived through more than he has,*_ ) Kaito reminded his friend. ( _*And here, I don't have to uphold anything but my own code. Almost no one expects anything out of the son of_ _ **Urahara**_ _after all, and those that would, know that I'm not really his son.*_ )

He tensed as he felt Ishida call up the spirit ribbons, and hoped that the teen would be too blinded by hate and Kurosaki's spilling reiatsu to notice the presence of another Shinigami. Being discovered before Ishida revealed the bait was not in his plans, and would make this whole endeavor harder to resolve.

(*You know, you taught me what that technique actually was,*) Ichigo commented when Ishida began to explain about the spirit ribbons. (*I used it to find Chad when he was being hunted by Shrieker, but I never realized what it actually was until now.*)

( _*You used… why am I not surprised?*_ ) Somehow, that was just like Ichigo, to use a high level technique without even knowing it existed.

They fell into a tense silence, with Kaito repressing a wince every time his past self's dramatics reared their head. Ichigo's snickers made it even worse, though even his friend couldn't help but wince a few times at his own words. Being back in this moment, being faced with his own idiocy, was worse than all of Urahara's antics combined. Even Urahara channeling Kurosaki-sensei couldn't compare to having to listen to himself go on and on about Quincies and Shinigami.

(*You know, listening to this from an outsider's point of view, I'm actually not as surprised anymore than Keigo thought you were practicing for a theater production.*)

( _*He what?!*_ )

Ichigo snickered, then suddenly sobered up and said, (*Heads up, here's our cue.*)

"Okay, let's hear the rules of this game!" Kurosaki declared.

Kaito tensed.

"We'll start with th—"

He _moved_ , pushing himself up and over the low wall and into a burst of shunpo that ended behind Ishida. Before the other teen could react, Kaito plucked the bait from Ishida's fingers and tucked it away into a small metal box that he snapped closed immediately afterward. "I think not."

Ishida sputtered in protest, spinning and taking a few steps back so that he could keep both Kurosaki and Kaito in his field of vision. "This doesn't involve you!"

"Mou, but I live here with my father, don't I?" Kaito asked Ishida, completely ignoring the fact that his past self hadn't bothered to interact with him beyond that brief glimpse at Don Kanonji's show. "I think setting Hollows on this town counts as involving everyone, doesn't it, Kurosaki-san?"

"I… what? The hell are you doing here, Kaito?!"

"Oh, just taking a stroll, enjoying the day, preventing the potential annihilation of Karakura," Kaito replied airily with an idle wave of his off hand. He didn't even try to prevent the faint smirk that emerged as Kurosaki's glower darkened and the corner of one eye started twitching again. "All in all, a rather average day."

(*Sometimes I really hate how well you've taken to mimicking Hat'n'Clogs,*) Ichigo grumbled. (*It's so much worse than your past dramatics.*)

( _*I prefer to consider it_ _ **better**_ _,*_ ) Kaito shot back, unwilling to let a chance to tease Ichigo go. ( _*As I now have a master to study under. How could I not improve when living under Urahara's roof?*_ )

Ichigo scoffed and didn't deign to respond.

"I'd hardly call my challenge 'the potential annihilation of Karakura'," Ishida snapped at him, fury in every line of his body. "If you really want to get involved, fine! I'll prove that one Quincy is more than enough to deal with _both_ of you!"

Kaito bit down on his amusement and kept his gaze steady on Ishida. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Kurosaki desperately attempted to get Ishida to shut up, clearly panicked at the thought of Kaito getting involved, by grimacing and slashing a hand across his throat in a futile attempt to silence the other teen. It made him feel all _warm and fuzzy_ inside that he'd managed to pound at least a modicum of self-preservation into Kurosaki, even if the teen had still been about to accept Ishida's challenge.

"Oh really?" Kaito murmured, as he slowly stalked towards Ishida, a toothy grin worthy of Shiro spreading across his face as he did. The slow fading of Ishida's confident expression was almost like a drug, and Kaito felt his grin widening in response. "Well then! How fortunate for you that I know the _perfect_ place to prove that!"

He lunged across the remaining space, grabbed Ishida by the teen's right ear, and _twisted_.

"OW! What the hell?! Let me go!"

"Hmmm… no!" Kaito replied cheerfully, as he channeled all his frustration at his past actions into dragging Ishida down the street towards the Shoten. "Come along, Kurosaki-san! Can't do a challenge without both challengers, after all!"

Not bothering to make sure that Kurosaki was following — the teen, after all, would never leave someone in danger if he could help it — Kaito continued down the sidewalk. He ignored all the odd looks and the whispers that were starting to follow them, generated by the spectacle the three of them were creating. Or, rather, at the spectacle that _Ishida_ was creating, since Kaito was in his spirit form and therefore invisible to the average person. In that context, Ishida's snarling and snapping probably looked particularly crazy, and Kaito spared a moment to consider whether he should send Urahara out to fix this little show.

He probably should. There were a lot more people along the path than he had thought when he first decided to drag Ishida back like this.

Jinta froze when they approached, eyes wide and mouth dropping open as he stared at them.

"A-ah, Kaito-san, h-h-hello…" Ururu hesitantly spoke. "Uhm, w-what…"

"Don't worry about it, Ururu-chan," Kaito replied with a friendly smile to the shy girl. "These two just need a few lessons in respect."

The way Jinta paled almost made Kaito laugh. That was an unlooked for result, but if it meant Jinta acted nicer for even a day or two, Kaito would be pleased.

Kurosaki sputtered from his place trailing after them. "Hey! I wasn't the one giving the challenge!"

"No, but you were going along with it." Kaito slid the door to the shop open and walked in, still dragging Ishida behind him. Absently, he registered Kuchiki as she stepped out of his way and stared in shock at the spectacle he was making. "Father! If we could use the training room, please?"

Even Urahara was blinking at him a bit, before his normal mask slid back in place and he grinned brightly. He rose from his seat and pulled the mats aside, then gestured grandly down at the exposed hole when he opened it up. "But of course! There you go, one private training room just for my son and his friends!"

"Thanks. Now get down there," Kaito said while tugging Ishida forward and finally releasing the teen's ear. He gave the other a light push closer to the edge of the trapdoor and arched an eyebrow pointedly.

Ishida glowered at him while rubbing at his abused ear, refusing to step any closer to the trapdoor. "And why should I?"

"Uh, probably best just to go along with it," Kurosaki muttered to Ishida with a wary glance at Kaito. He moved over to the ladder and started to descend without any more prompting or protests, clearly deciding the best way to survive this was to just go along with it.

"Well? You wanted to prove yourself better than us. Are you getting cold feet now?" Kaito asked his past self with a smirk.

Finally, Ishida seemed to give up and started down the ladder himself. The minute his head disappeared below the floor, Kaito sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He plucked the metal box from where he had tucked it and handed it over to Urahara.

"Here," he told the man. "I pulled this off of Ishida before he broke it. If you could put that somewhere where it's not likely to be found or used?"

"Of course!" Urahara responded. "Enjoy your play time!"

Kaito snorted, flipped Urahara off, and descended the ladder while listening to Urahara wail about what a disrespectful son he had and where had he _ever_ gone wrong?!

"When you let that damn cat rescue me! Oh! And you should probably go outside and fix all those memories of Ishida being dragged around by nothing!" Kaito yelled back up, just to add more fuel to the fire and confuse Kuchiki even further. Before Urahara could react to that, Kaito let go and used shunpo to cross the remaining distance to the ground. He found Ishida and Kurosaki standing across from each other, with Kurosaki's body standing off to one side with that creepy expression that meant Kon was currently in possession.

Kaito's arrival drew the two rivals out of their staring contest and focused their attention on him. Ishido crossed his arms over his chest and glared, while Kurosaki just waited for Kaito to explain what they were going to do.

"Fine. You got your way, we're both down here. Now what?" Ishida asked.

"Now? Now you prove you're more than just talk," Kaito replied with another Shiro-esque grin. He unsheathed his blades with a bit of a flourish, took note of the disbelieving stare that Ishida gave to his frankly absurd weapons, and said with glee, "I'd suggest you both run."

"Wait, why am I on his side?!" Kurosaki yelped, though Kaito noticed the teen didn't hesitate to grab Ishida's shoulder and yank the other away. "I thought this was supposed to be him against us!"

"I decided that was rather unsporting."

( ***Yeah! Go Koneko! Beat these two to death!*** )

(*Shiro! Don't encourage him!*)

Kaito's grin widened. Kurosaki paled and bolted, dragging Ishida along behind him.

( _*We became friends by fighting back to back against a hoard of small fry, followed by a huge menos. Survival against all odds.*_ ) Kaito shouldered his blades and gave the two a few moments to feel like they'd lost him. It would be so much fun to disabuse them of that notion! ( _*I'll drive them into the ground again and again, and force them to work together. All the impetus without endangering the rest of the town in the process.*_ )

(*You're having far too much fun with this plan already,*) Ichigo said warily.

Kaito smirked, marked the moment when Ishida broke away from Kurosaki, and wondered who he should hunt down first. ( _*A chance to beat some sense into both of our past selves? I wouldn't miss this for the world.*_ )

Mind made up, Kaito bared his teeth and darted off in a burst of shunpo.

* * *

 **Yo! I present to you the twelfth chapter of Dragon Eclipse! This one is a bit shorter than usual, because I injured my dominant hand mid-month, and my typing's slower as a result. A lifetime of holding things wrong means that I've damaged the tendons, and judging by the way my off hand is starting to feel, I might actually have done a bunch of damage to that hand too without realizing it. Steps are being taken, however, and there's hope that it'll just heal naturally if I take care. That'll take months though, so expect the next few chapters to be more in line with this rather than the monstrous 10k things I was writing before.  
**

 **I will not abandon this, however, and even if it doesn't heal naturally, there's more steps that can be taken that are almost guaranteed successful. It's just that I don't have the money to afford those steps right now, so it's best to just let it try to heal while saving up to handle it if it doesn't.**

 **Also, shout out to Girl-of-Action, who individually reviewed the past few chapters over the last day or two. Your words came at a time when I was feeling depressed thanks to my hand aching, and convinced me to finish editing what I had instead of letting this deadline slip past. The 'training' will be next chapter, and might even be most of the chapter. We'll see how much joy I take in beating the teens down.  
**

 **Til next month, ja ne!**


	13. Two VS One Is Unfair For The Two

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to people who are not me.

I STILL LIVE. Somehow. It's been a ride. So, have a chapter with angst and finishing off with some family fluff. Also, if you missed it, I posted a one-shot related to this fic, called A Tiger Protects His Dragon. Go take a look.

* * *

"You know, I thought you were supposed to be intelligent," Kaito remarked airily to Ishida the moment he appeared to the teen's right. He leaned casually against one of the ever-present boulders, both of his blades resting at his side in an image of confidence. "Clearly I misjudged that."

Ishida jumped back several feet, surprise flickering across his expression, before it hardened into irritation. The other raised his bow and created an arrow, voice tight as he said, "I _am._ I don't need that idiot in order to beat you, and I'll prove it!"

"Uh-huh," Kaito said in dubious agreement. He shoved away from the rock and took a few steps closer to Ishida, not once raising his weapons into a guard position, and watched in amusement as his past self took a step back for every step forward he took. "You saw how wary Kurosaki was of me, and thought 'oh, he's just a subpar fighter, anyone could beat him.'"

Ishida snarled, releasing his arrow and leaping further away to put more distance between them.

Kaito scoffed at the paltry effort, sweeping Ichigo's blade up through the air and shattering the pale blue arrow into fragments of reishi. "Is that all? You'll need to do better than that!"

The disbelief on Ishida's face was _glorious_ , and Kaito smirked as he darted forward. Like when he fought Kurosaki, he restricted his speed to something Ishida could keep track of, but unlike fighting Kurosaki, he kept Shiro's blade balanced across his shoulder. He only needed the sole blade to deal with the hail of pitifully slow arrows that Ishida was firing at him.

Ishida ducked under his first blow, twisted away from the second, and finally stumbled under an unexpected leg-swipe. Kaito struck. Blood bloomed across Ishida's chest, a crimson line of pain that caused the teen to falter in shock. His free hand pressed against the wound, fingers trembling and eyes wide, gaze fixed on the arc of Kaito's blade as it scattered crimson droplets in its wake.

"Damn, Ishida! I thought you said you could take him!" Kurosaki's voice echoed from behind Kaito.

He didn't even bother turning, just shifted Shiro's blade a touch, and braced himself against the impact of Kurosaki's leaping slash slamming into his back.

"I don't need your assistance!" Ishida snarled, snapping out of his shock and retreating from his spot at last. His hands were still trembling in reaction, but his voice was steady. "I can take him without your fumbling getting in the way!"

Kaito flicked Shiro's blade, using the leverage and his greater strength to send Kurosaki flying. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yeah! You didn't even get him to use both blades," Kurosaki remarked while pulling himself free of his newest crater and shaking the dust and stones from his clothing. He darted over to Ishida's side and took a solid stance a bit in front of his classmate, gaze fixed on Kaito. "He used both from the beginning with me, so what's that say about his opinion of you?"

"Or maybe," Ishida retorted, "he just needed both to get through your thick skull."

" _My_ thick skull?" Kurosaki huffed and eyed the bleeding gash across Ishida's chest. "Who's the one currently bleeding all over their pretty white shirt?"

"Oh? Because he's never done the same to you?"

Kaito blinked at the two, momentarily surprised as they took their eyes off of him and glowered at each other, before chuckling lowly and shaking his head. ( _*They_ _'re already at it.*_ )

(*Do we actually sound like that?*)

( _*Mid-combat banter? All the time,*_ ) Kaito replied with amusement. He stalked forward and swept his blades through the air, driving Kurosaki's sword into the ground and knocking Ishida's bow aside. "Eyes on me, children."

The squawks of outrage from _both_ at being called children made him laugh. Oh, this was so much _fun!_

Kaito leapt aside. Ducked under Kurosaki's swipe. Used his second blade to shatter the arrow flying at him. Shoved Kurosaki straight into the rain of pale blue fragments. Smirked at the boy's yelp of pain as one dissipated right in front of his eye, leaving him partially blind for a moment.

"If you want me to take you seriously, take this battle seriously!" Kaito called out to Ishida. "Your arrows are weak and so slow even a menos could dodge them!"

His words drove Ishida into a cold rage, the boy's attacks coming faster and stronger. Still Kaito shattered them, dodged them, used them to distract Kurosaki from other attacks.

"Stop taunting him," Kurosaki growled the moment he managed to lock blades with Kaito. "I don't know what the hell your problem with him is, but _stop it._ "

"My problem?" Kaito smiled coldly at Kurosaki, leaning to the side just enough to allow an arrow to slice right between them. "My problem is his lack of foresight. My problem is his skewed view of the world. My problem, little substitute, is that he nearly endangered this entire town on a pissing contest between the two of you."

Kaito twisted. Disarmed Kurosaki. Sent him flying in the opposite direction of his blade. Finally free, he turned to Ishida and _moved_ , sliding around the fresh hail of ( _too-slow-too-weak-too-useless-useless-USELESS)_ arrows to appear behind Ishida. Behind the _boy_ who wore his old face and attacked him with his old prejudices.

"That will never work," Kaito murmured softly to Ishida, fury and rage and _hate_ spun tightly together into a gentle tone and dismissive words. Ishida was everything he hated about himself, all the flaws and denials and arrogance and none of the hard-won lessons. In that moment, staring into Ishida's terrified blue eyes, all he wanted to do was _kill_ the other. Out of pity. Out of mercy. Out of _fear._

( _What could he become? Left loose and with no anchor, no turning point, no guidance but his own poor judgment. What could he become?_ )

(*Kaito!*)

Kaito scowled. Swept his blade to the side. _Shattered_ Ishida's bow in a display of mocking ease.

( _See how worthless you are? How weak? How powerless?_ )

( _Why do you even bother?_ )

Broken from his frozen state, Ishida cursed and bolted. Tried to escape, to flee the promise of death in Kaito's eyes.

Kaito just smirked. Kept pace as easily as breathing. Ignored Ichigo's frantic demands to _stop_ , that it was _too much_.

"I thought you were going to prove how outclassed I was?" Kaito asked cheerfully, while swaying backwards to avoid Kurosaki's lunge.

" _Stop tormenting him!_ " Kurosaki roared, as he planted himself between Kaito and Ishida. "He's a goddamn archer, and you _know_ you outclass both of us! So _stop proving it so brutally!_ "

Kaito paused, gave Kurosaki a slow blink, then turned his head to consider Ishida thoughtfully. The teen was panting just beyond Kurosaki, and still hadn't yet reforged his bow. A worm of doubt bloomed in Kaito's chest; _was_ he being too hard on Ishida, just because of who the boy was? "Mou, Kurosaki-san, I'm just trying to teach him the benefits of practice."

"Would you stop interfering?!" Ishida yelled furiously at Kurosaki the moment he managed to straighten up and get his breath back. "I don't need your help!"

"Looked like you needed my help to me!" Kurosaki shouted back, though he didn't take his gaze off Kaito this time. His perpetual scowl was deepened and tinged with puzzlement, clearly upset over Kaito's actions. "He's just _playing_ with you, and you weren't doing a damn thing that would actually let you escape!"

Ishida scoffed loudly, though Kaito could hear the doubt and fear in the sound. "Of course a barbarian like you would think that!"

Kaito smiled brightly at Kurosaki, then gave the boy a 'see? What can you do?' shrug in response to the further darkening scowl.

Kurosaki launched himself at Kaito, hilt held tight in both hands and blade singing as it sliced through the air. Kaito danced back instead of guarding, expecting Kurosaki to overextend himself.

But the boy corrected his stance at the last moment, arms shifting to redirect the long blade into another slash. Kaito made a pleased noise and used Shiro's blade to catch and redirect the attack harmlessly to the side. Even then Kurosaki remained stable, continuing to move with the motion and using it to start another strike.

"Well done," Kaito praised Kurosaki with genuine pleasure. "You're starting to really learn."

There was a brief flash of triumph in Kurosaki's gaze at the praise, and the teen redoubled his attempts at taking Kaito down. Kaito allowed it. Allowed himself to settle into the give and take. Allowed his _rage-hate-fear_ to simmer back into the depths of his soul. But he never took his attention away from Ishida, who was lurking around the edges. The teen had rebuilt his bow, and was charging an arrow in an attempt to snipe him down while he was 'distracted'.

"For someone who says they don't need help, you're using his distraction quite well!" Kaito called out to Ishida, startling the teen into releasing his attack a bit early. Kaito leapt aside, let it shatter upon the ground, scattering dust and debris into the air.

Kurosaki, however, barely avoided the shards of debris that the arrow threw upwards. "Watch where you're aiming! You could have hit me with that!"

"Then keep track of your surroundings better, idiot!" Ishida shouted back.

Kaito chuckled. "He has a point. You get so focused that anyone could sneak up upon you. If you're ever going to fight at someone else's side, you have to know how to keep track of both your allies and your enemies on the field."

"When did this turn into another lesson?" Kurosaki grumbled, as he ran a hand through his hair and scattered dust and pebbles aside. "I thought this was about him?"

"Who says I can't teach both?" Kaito tapped Shiro's blade against his shoulder for a moment, looking between Kurosaki and Ishida. "It's not like either of you is a true challenge."

Rueful acknowledgment flickered across Kurosaki's expression, letting Kaito know that this version of his friend understood that there were those out there who could grind him into the dust with but a thought. It was Ishida's reaction that confused and worried him, and for a brief moment he couldn't actually understand what he was seeing.

It was… odd. Odd to see his old features twisted into such an expression of anger and loathing before quickly smoothing back out. But the emotions remained, lurking in the lines of Ishida's body and coloring the boy's reiatsu with jagged, bitter-sharp edges.

Kaito faltered. Almost missed the moment Kurosaki decided to strike. Had to quickly lash out with Shiro's blade to guard against it. Even as he shoved Kurosaki aside, his mind remained circling around what he had seen. Had he done the unthinkable? Drove his past self away when he had meant to pull the other closer?

( _Hatred bred hatred._ )

(*I tried to warn you…*)

Kaito grit his teeth against Ichigo's admonishment. _Needed_ desperately to check something.

So he flashed over to Ishida, blade striking out in an attempt to destroy the teen's bow a second time. Another flash of loathing crossing Ishida's expression, flitting by in the heartbeat it took for his bow to shatter like so much fragile glass, and suddenly Kaito understood.

That anger, that loathing, it wasn't directed at him. It was directed at _Ishida himself._

( _Just like his own. Tangled fury-rage at what was-could be-is._ )

Ichigo remained silent within his soul, nervous and disapproving and disappointed all at once. It _hurt_ , like the agony of his missing arm, like the agony of breathing in superheated air, but _so much worse_.

"So determined to lose?" Kaito asked, trying to keep his tone light despite the fear eating away at his insides. His blade was at Ishida's throat, unwavering no matter how much his hand wanted to tremble. How could he fix this? How could he _undo_ the damage he had so negligently created? "You had such fire when I brought you down here, but that time I didn't even sense a shred of resolve."

"What's the use?" Ishida spat, eyes narrowed and chin tilted up to keep away from the sharpened back edge of Kaito's blade. "You've made your point, I'm _less than nothing_ to you. Just some stupid little human bug, daring to challenge someone so far beyond my skills it's laughable. Well? Get on with it. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"What I wanted? You _dare_ to think you know _what I wanted_?" Kaito hissed, fingers tightening around the tang of his blade until his knuckles turned white. "Such _arrogance_. You don't _know me_ , little _Quincy_. And perhaps that's for the best; if you would simply roll over at give up at the little thrashing I gave you, you're _hardly_ worthy of the title. There will always be those stronger than you out there in the world. It's how you struggle to survive that defines a person, and right now, all I see is a _whining coward_ who talks big and gives up at the first sign of trouble."

Kaito held Ishida's gaze, willing his past self to rekindle the resolve Kaito had trampled on, to pick up his bow once more and come at him with determination. He didn't know what he would do if he had crushed Ishida's ambition; yes, he had considered pushing the other aside, but seeing Kurosaki and Ishida bickering, seeing the way they played off one another… he couldn't. He had become better, stronger, _less lonely_ through his friendship with Ichigo; what right did he have to deny his past self that chance to grow?

And instead he let his hatred rule him. Let his emotions overturn his rational thoughts and block out Ichigo's words. That was almost as terrifying as the prickly self-loathing that traced through Ishida's reiatsu. What if he blocked Ichigo out for good? Unable to hear his best friend ever again?

(*Kaito, Kaito, it's alright. You stopped before it was too late. I don't hate you,*) Ichigo attempted to reassured him.

There was no time to respond, though. Kaito could see the cracks forming in Ishida's resolve, could see the way Ishida's composure was flaking away with every second that passed. The teen was glaring at him, fists clenched and arms trembling with restrained emotion. The only thing Kaito could do was brace himself against the coming explosion.

"Why the hell do you care?" Ishida snarled, voice dark with promised violence. He lashed out. Knocked Kaito's blade aside. Lunged forward with fist raised, only to growl in fury when Kaito ducked away. "You show up out of nowhere, all high and mighty, and drag me through the town and then down here! You casually destroy my every effort, and then _dare_ to talk to me about _arrogance?!_ About _not being the strongest?_ You, a _Shinigami_ , with your own personal training ground and carte blanche to drag whoever you want down here, dare to speak of _arrogance?!_ Did you just drag me down here to _feel better about yourself?_ "

Kaito grit his teeth and slung his blades across his back the instant he could. He didn't dare bring such long, sharp objects into the equation, not with the near berserker-like state he had driven Ishida to.

Instead, he countered with blows and strikes of his own, eyes narrowed in concentration. Kurosaki was lurking around the edges, confusion and helplessness flaring through his reiatsu, and Kaito could only hope the other teen stayed out of it.

"I dragged you down here because your idea of a contest was idiotic!" Kaito roared at the foolish teen. He lashed out with a hand. Grabbed onto Ishida's extended arm. _Flipped_ the other over his hip and down to the dusty ground. Before Ishida could react, Kaito pinned the boy to the ground with a foot and a flare of concentrated reiatsu. "Calm the fuck down and listen to reason!"

"Reason? What _reason_ can a damn Shinigami give that would make a difference?"

Kaito's mind went still, as he glared down at his damn-fool past self. Calmly, gracefully, he pulled free Ichigo's blade and held it out, ignoring the way Ishida's face went stark white in terror. "Don't. Call me. A Shinigami."

(*Kaito..?*) Ichigo questioned briefly, then swore and started to shout at him. (*Damnit! Kaito, stop and think about this! He's gotten to you again, just stop and breathe for a moment!*)

He ignored Ichigo. Ignored Shiro's mad cackling and Zangetsu's weary sigh. Ichigo's blade pulsed in his hand and reformed into his newly claimed bow, all sleek black 'wood' and emerald inlay.

Silence descended upon the training room. Ishida's terror had faded into disbelief, his gaze fixed on the bow that Kaito now held. A fragment of Kaito registered the wash of confusion coming from Kurosaki, but this wasn't about him, no matter their newest revelation of Kurosaki's heritage.

"That's…"

"A Quincy bow," Kaito agreed with a grave nod. Already he could feel his emotions draining away, leaving him frozen and empty inside.

Ishida's turned his gaze back to Kaito, eyes troubled and reiatsu losing its jagged edges in the face of this newest revelation. "Why do you… how can you…"

Kaito frowned, hesitating now that his ardor had cooled and the implications of what he had just revealed hit him. But there was nothing to do but forge onward; he had always had too much reiatsu to be safely mind-wiped, so there was no taking this gesture back. "You have to swear. Swear to tell _no one_ what I'm about to tell you. That goes for you as well, Kurosaki!"

Footsteps approached, wary and uncertain, but Kaito didn't bother to look up at Kurosaki as the teen closed the distance.

"Whatever the hell is going on, I won't tell anyone," Kurosaki promised, voice solemn.

Ishida wavered for a moment longer, before his curiosity overcame his wariness. "I will not, either."

"Good," Kaito breathed, as he let Ishida up and stepped back. He slumped against a nearby rock and ran his free hand through his hair. Why did he have to remain so impulsive at times? Hadn't he learned the folly of that attitude by now? "That's… good. There are factions out there that would sooner see me dead and my soul destroyed than allow me to live anywhere in the three realms. And the two of you would likely be killed as well, for knowing such a thing."

Never mind that Ishida already had the distrust of Soul Society just for being a Quincy. Never mind that Kurosaki was exactly the sort of soul that would normally garner a kill order as well. Those facts, combined with sheltering another soul, would see them severed from their powers at best, and more likely killed than shown mercy.

"Why?" Kurosaki asked, his voice almost plaintive.

Kaito grimaced, wondering exactly how much to explain to the two teens, before sighing and setting his bow down on the rock he was slumped against. "I'm a hybrid, a mixed-race soul, and the Shinigami as a whole are not… very appreciative of souls like me."

"Rukia wouldn't care!" Kurosaki cried, stepping a bit closer with one hand partially raised in denial.

"I said as a whole," Kaito snapped at the interruption. He took a deep breath, held it for the count of five, then released it, trying to regain control of his temper once more. "There are those like my father who don't particularly care, or will shelter or hide any hybrids they find, but they are generally in the minority."

Ishida sat up slowly, staring up at him with wary, shuttered eyes. It was obvious that he was trying to process the secret that Kaito had decided to share. "If hybrids are hated, then how do you exist? Is that why your father is here in the living world?"

Kaito shook his head. "No. Father's here for another reason. He… I… we didn't know about each other until recently. I was an unexpected child, born out in the Rukongai to a mother who never expected to have a child."

"Why not?" Kurosaki asked.

"Conception works differently in Soul Society than here in the living world," Kaito told the two teens, thinking back on the discussion he'd had with Urahara one late night when they both couldn't sleep. "Here it's just a matter of both parents being fertile, but in Soul Society, both parents need to be strong souls. That's because they're making a brand new soul, one that has never before been through the cycle of reincarnation. Father never told her who he was, and he had kept his reiatsu tightly bound any time he met with her."

He could see both teens grimace at the story he was starting to outline, and frankly he didn't blame them. Even if he was just describing a fictional encounter, it was still about the people he was currently claiming as his parents, and just screamed of a bad romance novel. Hidden reiatsu, secret meetings, no names… but Urahara had assured him that such things did indeed happen in the Onmitsukido; sometimes they didn't even reveal their faces to their lovers!

"So they didn't take precautions," Kurosaki finally said, after he had gotten over his initial reaction. "And you were born without Hat'n'Clogs knowing."

"Yes. Mother had hidden her reiatsu as well, because the Shinigami don't particularly care for Quincy and she didn't want to draw attention to herself. So father… didn't realize who he was seeing." Kaito glanced warily between the two teens, wondering how they were taking his story. This could either blow up in his face or help, and he wasn't entirely sure which one it would be right now.

"Which leaves you a hybrid soul, both Quincy and Shinigami," Ishida spoke again, his gaze steady if still wary. "Is that why you hate the Shinigami?"

Kaito gave a wry bark of laughter and shook his head. "I don't hate them, not anymore. There are some decent ones out there, and some that I would rather kill than see living a moment longer, but most of them… I think I pity them."

Kurosaki looked confused as he asked, "Why would you pity them?"

"Because they're just pawns," Kaito admitted with a shrug. "Most of them don't have the strength of will to advance far and are willing to just be led around by their superiors, to let others do their thinking for them. I can't imagine a life like that, and I think they're to be pitied for just accepting it the way they do, and not striving to be better."

"That's why you became furious at me," Ishida spoke in dawning understanding, as he blinked and looked up at Kaito thoughtfully. "Because I gave up."

"And let me run roughshod over you, yes," Kaito confirmed with a nod. "I didn't expect your bow to shatter when I first cut it like that. Mine never has, so I just… I don't know what I thought would happen, but it wasn't _that_. And then you just stopped trying."

"He didn't, though!" Kurosaki yelled, fists clenching as he took a threatening step towards Kaito. "He kept attacking you even after you did that!"

"No, I gave up," Ishida reprimanded Kurosaki, glowering up at the other teen when Kurosaki turned on him. "Don't give me that look! I think I know myself a bit better than you do, Kurosaki, and my heart wasn't in any of those attacks I tried after he first broke my bow."

Kurosaki huffed and looked away, arms crossed over his chest and back rigid in frustration.

Kaito gave a weak chuckle and leaned forward a bit, hoping that the smile he brought to his face didn't look as fragile as it felt. "Oh dear, how terrible. Told off by the teen you were trying to defend."

Kurosaki scoffed at him, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair, turning back to Ishida and offering his hand to the teen. "Sorry, Ishida."

Ishida stared at Kurosaki's hand for a moment, then accepted it and allowed the other to pull him to his feet. The two stared at each other in silence, but there didn't seem to be the same hostility present as before. Instead, it was almost… measuring. Considering.

It pleased Kaito to see an understanding starting to form, even if he'd had to break out one of his biggest secrets. At least now Ishida's reiatsu wasn't turning on itself; Kaito had no idea what he could have done if his past self had sunk into a true depression.

His past self finally looked away from Kurosaki, focusing on Kaito with a thoughtful stare, before slowly asking, "Do you think I could become as strong as you?"

"Yes," Kaito replied without hesitation. "If you work at it, and don't take shortcuts, I have no doubt you could. You'll never be able to do everything I can, because I'm part Shinigami as well, but equaling or besting my Quincy skills? I believe that's well within your abilities so long as you have the will to do so."

Though Ishida probably couldn't put the sheer strength into his attacks that Kaito could these days, even if he practiced for the rest of his life. That was just another of those things that had been enhanced by the merging. Still, his past self had the same sort of potential he had, and now knew that there was another Quincy around to learn from.

(*Though you'll have to keep learning,*) Ichigo commented thoughtfully, still a bit wary of what Kaito had revealed, but willing to let it go for now. (*We're only from a couple of months in the future, I doubt you're that much ahead of him in skills.*)

( _*I can keep him from making my mistakes, though. And my lack of skills can be explained by being only taught the basics by my mother,*_ ) Kaito answered after a moment.

This… might end up working out better than he had originally expected; being known as a Quincy, he could keep Ishida from putting on that damn glove without understanding what their grandfather had been talking about. He could leave Kurosaki's training to Urahara like before, and deal with Ishida by himself. A couple of days of hell training between the two of them, and Kaito felt he could drive home many of the lessons that had taken him months to learn on his own.

Ishida seemed pleased with Kaito's words, though a puzzled look crossed his face as he looked between Kaito and Kurosaki. "Isn't… relying on others a shortcut?"

Kaito bit back his instant retort ( _never-never-NEVER a shortcut!_ ) and instead shook his head forcefully. "No. Everyone has different strengths, and using those strengths together isn't a shortcut, it's _wisdom._ "

He hefted his bow again, and allowed it to shimmer back into Ichigo's blade, slowing the transition down a bit just to show off. "I'm both a close combat specialist and an archer, I can fill either or both roles in any combat I'm part of. That means that no matter where my enemy stands, I can reach them with my attacks. Kurosaki, what would you do if I decided to stick to archery and abuse my speed?"

"I'd lose," Kurosaki answered immediately. "I'm getting better, but… you still haven't gone all out on me, have you?"

"I haven't," Kaito confirmed with a nod and a pleased cast to his expression. At least Kurosaki was starting to think more tactically. "So what would you do?"

"Besides lose? Uh… get an archer?"

"Very good," Kaito praised, before he turned to Ishida, who had another thoughtful look on his face. "You've already experienced what happens when a swordsman gets up close and personal. Leaving aside your pride, what's _your_ best option?"

Ishida stared at him for a long moment, before slowly glancing over to Kurosaki. Clearly the teen was remembering the way Kurosaki had continually cut in and gave him breathing space to step back and reevaluate. "That's what you were trying to prove, wasn't it. You… wanted me to work with him, instead of trying to do it all myself. You… even said something to that effect, at one point."

"Yes. Working together means we have a better chance to survive." Kaito leveled his blade first at Ishida, then at Kurosaki, a fierce expression crossing his face as he tried to hammer home the seriousness of this topic. " _Neither of you_ are an island. Trying to do everything yourself will just get you or others _killed_."

"But what about you?" Kurosaki asked, jaw set into a mulish mien. "You work by yourself all the time, don't you?"

Kaito huffed and grounded his blade, though didn't yet rise from his seat. "Because I'm not doing anything yet, just training and teaching you. But all my practice with father and with you means I can fight back to back with any of you without trouble. We know how the other fights, now, which means we can work together more easily. If I went after anyone I'm not one hundred percent certain of my victory, you can bet that I'm going to look for someone to watch my back!"

Never again would he make that mistake. Never again would he leap into combat without consideration for the odds, or let _others_ do the same if he could help it. No, he saw what that led to ( _spilled blood and screams for nonexistent mercy and mocking taunts about passion_ ) and he never wanted to see or experience it again.

At least his words seemed to get through to two of them, hearing him actually say he would search out a partner to fight beside. He, who to them seemed untouchable, would ask for help from another.

(*Leaving us out, aren't you?*) Ichigo asked with amusement.

( _*Oh hush,*_ ) Kaito replied, relieved that Ichigo didn't seem to hold a grudge. ( _*Didn_ _'t you tell me that the idea of a Shinigami's blade containing a spirit was a foreign concept to you at this point? Besides, having a physical being watching and defending your back is… good.*_ )

(*All those pretty words, and you still can't say teamwork,*) Ichigo teased him lightly.

Kaito bit back a chuckle, unwilling to make the two teens in front of him suspicious. Now wasn't yet the time to reveal a Shinigami's secret to them. ( _*I grew stronger alongside you, but we never really fought as a team except the once.*_ )

Ichigo hummed thoughtfully, mulling that over even as Kaito watched Kurosaki and Ishida consider each other. He would likely have to continue driving them into the ground in order to smooth out their teamwork, but it was at least a start.

(*We really were islands, weren't we,*) Ichigo spoke slowly, working through the thought even as he said. (*We kept fighting alone, even against… even against people like Ulquiorra.*)

( _*Yes,*_ ) Kaito replied solemnly, even as he stood and shouldered Ichigo's blade. ( _*We fought alone, two individual teenagers against beings with centuries more experience than we could even dream of. Pride is all well and good, but_ _… I think I prefer survival.*_ )

(*I think I prefer survival, too,*) Ichigo nearly whispered.

He channeled his unease into a fierce grin, taking a single step towards Kurosaki and Ishida and making the two snap their attention to him almost immediately. Warily, the two teens retreated, with Kurosaki shifting slightly to stand partially between Kaito and Ishida.

"So, shall we stop gossiping like little old ladies?" Kaito asked, grin widening as he advanced further. "I think the two of you heard me… now I want to see if you've understood me!"

Giving no more warning that that, he launched himself at Kurosaki, sword sweeping across in an attempt to knock the other aside. Kurosaki grimaced and held his ground, blocking the strike and disengaging before Kaito could use his second blade to his advantage. They clashed, blades ringing against one another again and again, until Kaito leapt to the side to avoid a barrage of arrows that would have skewered him.

With a feral grin more at home on Shiro's face than his own, Kaito ducked under Kurosaki's attempt at a surprise attack and kicked the teen aside. He raced across the space separating him from Ishida, closing in on the other with a blade raised to strike the teen down.

Only to have to duck aside as Kurosaki darted back into the fray, shouting his fury as he tried to drive Kaito back away from Ishida.

"You're learning," Kaito praised Kurosaki absently, while twisting his blade to knock aside Kurosaki's blow. The move left the teen off balance, and Kaito took advantage; crimson blood welled up following the sweep of his second blade. "But you're still not on par with me."

"Says the man who can't get past me," Kurosaki panted out, arms steady and balance restored. He shifted, wincing at the sting of his new wound, and lunged for Kaito.

Only to yelp in shock as Kaito twisted out of the way and used the flat of one blade to send Kurosaki flying with an absent swat.

"I thought you had him!" Ishida shouted in fury, putting every bit of his agility to the test in order to avoid the sword-blows aimed at him.

Kaito pressed him hard, driving him back and back again, to the point where Ishida couldn't even bring his bow to bear long enough to form and fire an arrow. He smirked at the Quincy, blocked Kurosaki's attempt at breaking them apart again, and hurled the Substitute away with another casual flick of his blade. "Oh, don't be too hard on the poor boy. You need practice, too, after all!"

Ishida scoffed and attempted to redouble his effort at breaking away, but Kaito noted that the other was being careful about using his bow to block with, relying instead on dodging. That was all well and good — it was one of his preferred methods of escape, after all — but there had been more than one time during the upcoming 'war' that Kaito had needed to rely on his bow as a shield.

"And stop treating your bow like glass! It's a manifestation of your will, it's only going to break if you let it!"

Well, it wasn't quite that simple; if Kaito's will was stronger than Ishida's, the bow would break anyway. That was, he suspected, what had happened in the beginning. Ishida had never come across someone who fought like him before, and Kaito's will was honed to a razor-sharp edge these days, and tainted by his rage at his past self.

But knowing that wouldn't help Ishida's confidence rebuild, and Kaito desperately needed that to happen. He couldn't let the other go out into the world with a flawed will, not if he wanted everyone to survive this time. So he carefully locked away his lingering emotions. Left only his resolve and determination to win behind. Hoped it was enough.

Thankfully, he saw Ishida's jaw tense, the teen's lips thinning into a line, and knew that the other was trying to firm up his resolve. When his next blow was blocked by Ishida's bow, even if his blade had sunk a bit into the construct, he gave the other a sharp grin. "See? It's all in your will."

They both had to duck under Kurosaki's next wild swing, and Kaito smirked at the way anger flared in Ishida's gaze.

"Watch where you're swinging that meat cleaver of yours!" Ishida snapped at Kurosaki. He pulled away from Kaito and held his bow at the ready, but had most of his attention on Kurosaki. "It's like you're a barbarian, the way you charge into the fray with no attention to detail!"

"Hey!" Kurosaki glowered over his shoulder at Ishida, though he kept driving himself at Kaito in order to keep the other's attention. "If it's escaped your notice, he's got _two_ gigantic blades to my _one_ , so how about making fun of him instead?"

"Two blades that he's handling better than you're managing with one," Ishida scoffed, doing his best to add some arrows into the melee without getting in Kurosaki's way. Unfortunately, most of his shots went wide, or shattered harmlessly against the ground or one of Kaito's blades. "At least when he comes at me, I know he's aiming to take my head."

"I was trying to separate the two of you!"

"By separating my head from my body!"

"As much as I appreciate this two-man act," Kaito interrupted, as he batted aside two of Ishida's arrows and calmly drove Kurosaki into the path of the rest and trapped him there with a blade-lock. "Think about how _you_ _'re_ fighting, too."

In an act that shocked Kaito to see, Ishida reacted with a snarl and a pulse of will that sent the arrows wide around Kurosaki. A few still managed to skim the teen's side, leaving behind thin trails of bloody slashes, but no arrow actually struck Kurosaki. It was fascinating to watch, knowing that _he_ had never learned even the basics of path control until months in the future.

"Then I'll _fix_ that," Ishida declared with a grim expression. "I won't let a damn Shinigami out-do me!"

"Substitute!" Kurosaki shot back, blade striking out to deflect one of Kaito's attacks. "I'm a substitute, thank you!"

"Who can't even manage his own sword."

Kaito sighed, wanting to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration but unable to because of having both blades out. Instead, he disarmed Kurosaki in one swift move and barreled forward in a burst of shunpo, slamming the two teens into each other and tossing them onto the ground where they landed in a confused tangle. He stared down at the two of them, eyes narrowed and one blade leveled straight at them. "If you have time to banter, then clearly I'm not fighting you seriously enough."

The two teens gulped, sharing a slightly horrified look as they hastily untangled themselves and stood up again.

"Yes," Kaito mused, taking a threatening step closer. "I don't think I'm fighting you seriously enough at all. I'm going to remedy that. Right. Now."

That was all the warning the two had, before Kaito launched himself forward, twin blades blurring into a dance of dark and light, causing both teens to yelp and scurry away. With a bark of laughter, Kaito followed, intent on pounding some respect and teamwork into the two stubborn idiots.

* * *

Kaito lounged atop one of the remaining boulders, his blades sheathed across his back, and stared down in amusement at the past versions of himself and Ichigo. The teens were sprawled out next to each other, panting and trembling in reaction, and blessedly silent. The bickering _might_ have gotten on his nerves a bit, and he _might_ have gone a bit hard on them because of it, but Kaito was sure they'd survive.

(*How did our enemies put up with us?*) Ichigo asked in faint horror at what he'd witnessed during the fight.

( _*The intelligent ones didn_ _'t, they either laughed or made us shut up. The rest… well, they were just as bad.*_ )

"Oh my!" Urahara chirped as he stepped up beside the boulder Kaito was sitting on and stared down at the thoroughly defeated teens.

"Father," Kaito greeted the man with a slight nod. "I think they've learned their lesson, for now. We'll see in a couple days."

Twin groans met his words, and he flashed the teens a cheerful smile. "Well, I'll need to make sure it's stuck, after all!"

"No more, please," Kurosaki groaned, draping one arm over his eyes to block out the steady light of the training ground. "I just want to sleep."

"You haven't convinced me that Shinigami aren't evil, but you've convinced me that _you_ are," Ishida declared from his own spot on the dusty ground, not even bothering to open his eyes as he spoke.

"Such heartfelt endorsements!" Urahara laughed and stepped around Kaito to stared down at the two, fan covering the lower half of his face from view. Kaito was one hundred percent certain there was a grin beneath that fan, just going by what he knew of his father.

"I didn't think it was terrible," Kaito told Urahara with a light tone, his lips twitching up into a tiny smirk at the groans of denial from the other two. "I barely even broke a sweat."

"Hate you. So much," Kurosaki growled from his position on the ground, his head turned and eyes cracked open to glare at Kaito.

Kaito just smiled at the teen, then rose and brushed at his pants to dislodge some of the dust that had settled on them. He hadn't come out of the combat unscathed — Kurosaki and Ishida had managed to work together well enough towards the end that he had a few scratches — but compared to what he'd done to them he was virtually untouched.

"Just think of it as motivation to get better," he told Kurosaki cheerfully. "You managed to land some blows towards the end. Just think of what the two of you could do with more practice!"

That made the two weary teens turn their heads enough to stare at each other, and Kaito was pleased to see a determined light spark in both of their gazes.

"Just you watch," Ishida spoke fiercely, finally pushing himself to sit up so he could glare up at Kaito. "We'll do it, and you'll never know what hit you."

( _*How do you get two alphas to work together? Beat them within an inch of their lives and give them a challenge that requires both of them to complete,_ _"_ ) Kaito remarked mentally, pleased with the outcome. Even with his misstep, even with having to reveal one of his biggest secrets, things had turned out in the end. The two had clearly bonded over their shared misery and desire to best him.

Ichigo snorted in his mind, though clearly agreed with his views on what had happened. Shiro was too busy cackling over Kurosaki's misfortune — as usual — to really comment, but Kaito knew the Hollow approved of the way the past version of his Aibo was improving.

"I'll be waiting," Kaito told Ishida with a cheerful smile. "Just don't make me wait until I'm old and grey like father!"

At his side, Urahara yelped and spun to look at him in betrayal. "Old and grey? Old and grey?! I'll have you know my hair is just as glorious as its always been!"

"So you don't deny you're old?" Kaito asked with false innocence.

Urahara's sputtered denials and over-dramatic flailing made Kaito grin, even as he stepped around the man to offer his hand to Kurosaki to help the other up from the ground.

Kurosaki accepted it, though once he was on his feet he nearly fell back to the ground before Kaito steadied him once more. "Is he always…"

"Like that? Yes," Kaito replied with amusement, ignoring the pouting look Urahara was shooting him. "You get used to it, or learn to ignore it."

"No respect at all!" Urahara proclaimed, even as he hoisted Ishida to his feet and set the teen upright. "My son is such a disrespectful gaki, I have no idea where I ever went wrong with him."

Kaito rolled his eyes at the common, joking refrain, and asked, "Is Tsukabishi-san down here?"

"Mou, Kaito-kun, so cruel to think that your dear father would ignore the plight of your new friends!" Urahara flicked his fan out, gesturing to the side where Tsukabishi was approaching, carrying both gigai with ease.

Kaito just huffed a bit in response, and moved to Tsukabishi's side to watch as the man called up healing kido to patch up first Kurosaki, then Ishida, and then the few tiny wounds on Kaito himself.

Being a doctor had never appealed to him, not after… not after his mother had died, but he'd already seen the troubles that could occur in combat when there was no healer nearby. Being capable of crude battlefield healing to tide them over until they could get to Inoue was… a tempting one. Still, that was something for another day, a lesson to be gained at another time, when the fate of the three worlds wasn't resting on his shoulders.

He slid back into his gigai the moment Tsukabishi indicated he could, then turned to follow the others back towards the ladder.

"Feel free to come by again!" Urahara was saying as Kaito reached the top of the ladder and climbed out into the shop itself.

"We will," Ishida replied with conviction, sending a narrow-eyed look at Kaito.

Kurosaki just nodded sharply and strode out the door and into the darkening evening world. They already knew that he would return, given how many times he had come asking for a spar already. Whether or not he would actually coordinate with Ishida in order to show up together was another thing, but Kaito was certain that the two would keep to their resolve.

Hopefully _this_ change would help prevent further difficulties ahead. Even if Kaito meant to completely invalidate everything he knew about the future soon enough, having the two on good terms could only be the better in his opinion. And maybe it would teach his past self the value of comrades before he had to learn it the hard way: through witnessing the death of one.

Urahara's hand landed on his shoulder, and Kaito warily glanced over at the man.

"Why don't we go back into the kitchen and have a snack?" Urahara suggested lightly, though there was a serious cast to his features that warned Kaito against trying to escape.

Resigned to being taken to task for what had happened in the basement, Kaito trailed after Urahara and watched as the man collected some treats and a tea pot. Steam was already rising from the spout, letting Kaito know that this had been _planned_ , and he slowly went about setting up the little table for the two of them to sit at.

A heavy silence settled over them once they were seated, broken only by the soft sound of tea being poured. Kaito accepted a small plate of soba bolo and set it down next to his tea cup, though the tiny piece he broke off tasted like cardboard in his mouth and he could barely swallow it.

Finally, Urahara broke the silence between them.

"I thought you weren't going to reveal yourself?" Urahara asked pleasantly, none of his thoughts or opinions clear for Kaito to read.

Kaito shrugged awkwardly, still staring down at his little plate, fingers slowly tearing the buckwheat cookies into crumbs. The silence dragged on, until finally he mustered up the courage to reply. "I wasn't. But Ishida… I pushed him too far, I… I took out my frustrations at my past on him, and I nearly broke him today, I think. All I could see was this… this spoiled _brat_ , clinging to his beliefs even as I kept pounding on him. And then he _gave up!_ It was… one minute he was all fire and fury, and the next something just _broke_ in him and he stopped fighting and let me run roughshod over him."

Urahara made a soft noise, though Kaito couldn't tell if it was censure or something else. He was too ashamed of his loss of control to even look up to be sure, and just continue speaking since it didn't seem like Urahara was going to yet.

"And then he called me Shinigami and I just… I lost my last bit of control. He was so _hateful_ , and I knew I was like that, but being faced with it, being _called that_ , like I was the most disgusting being on the planet…"

"You had to prove him wrong," Urahara gently finished the thought for him. "You were already furious at him being so weak, at giving up, and then he called you Shinigami."

"Yes," Kaito agreed with a slight nod. He fidgeted a bit more with the poor soba bolo, completely ignoring the tea and still refusing to look up to see the disappointment that was likely writ large across Urahara's face.

Urahara hummed softly, then sighed when Kaito still didn't look up. "Kaito, look at me."

Reluctantly, Kaito dragged his gaze from the pile of crumbs and to the older man. He didn't want to see the disappointment he _knew_ the other had to be feeling, or the frustration or censure that was also likely. Instead, Urahara's gaze held only understanding and acceptance. It almost made him look back down, face burning dully with shame, but he forced himself to keep looking at the other.

"We all make mistakes," Urahara said forcefully, gaze steady and none of his goofy persona visible. "You are young yet, and I've known people older than you who allow their emotions to rule their actions even now. This was a mistake, yes, but _it is not the end of the world_. Kurosaki and Ishida would have found out about your heritage eventually. There would have come a point when you needed to choose between revealing yourself or letting an ally die; would you have chosen to remain hidden, or reveal yourself?"

"Reveal myself," Kaito replied with conviction. He'd experienced too much death already; exposing himself was a small price to pay to keep another person alive.

Urahara nodded firmly. "In a way, this is almost a better outcome. Now those two know of you, and of the danger you are in just by existing. Now when you have to reveal to the world what you are, you will have allies at your back who already knew. They will not feel betrayed, or surprised, or allow this to come between you. Instead, they will defend you knowing full well why you will need to be defended."

Kaito understood, he did, but at the same time it hurt that things had turned out this way. That he had proven to Urahara that he couldn't be trusted to keep such an important secret. It made him doubt himself; one day, would he just blurt out his other huge secret? That he wasn't even from this time, and was actually Ishida from the future?

With a sigh, Urahara set his teacup down and leaned forward, hands atop the little table they were sitting at. "Listen to me, Kaito. This was one of the outcomes I had suspected might happen. If I foresaw this hurting you, _I would have kept you from revealing yourself._ Trust in yourself, and in your instincts. The choice you made was a difficult one, but I believe you made the right one."

"I did?"

"You did," Urahara repeated firmly. "You are correct, you nearly went too far with Ishida, but you recovered splendidly. I believe the three of you are stronger for it, both together and separately."

"Would… would you have stopped me if… if I actually harmed him?" Kaito couldn't help but ask, gaze once more fixed on the table in front of him instead of looking at Urahara. He felt like such a baby, asking such a question, but he still couldn't help but want to know.

"If it was looking like you would damage him irreparably, yes. I would have."

Urahara's words let Kaito relax a bit, and he breathed out a thankful breath. Was this what a father was actually supposed to be like? Willing to allow him to make his own mistakes, but also prepared to step in when he went too far to recover on his own? He didn't know, and Ichigo didn't seem to know either, but… he thought it might be. It almost reminded him of how Zangetsu had been acting in the Dangai, except this time it was coming from a person that existed outside of his soul. It confused him, left a muddled tangle of emotions in his chest that he couldn't make heads or tails of, but… it also felt… pleasant.

"Learn from this," Urahara urged him, his voice steady and implacable. "The only reason I would be disappointed in you over this is if you didn't learn and grow from this experience, Kaito."

"You… aren't?" Kaito asked, inwardly cursing at how uncertain his voice sounded. It was difficult to believe Urahara's words, even if Kaito hadn't seen a thing to dispute them. Ryuuken had rarely been anything but critical of him, finding disappointment in nearly every action he had made as Uryuu. To have Urahara pointedly tell him otherwise felt strange, and left him as confused as the first time Urahara had done something for him unasked.

"I am not," Urahara repeated firmly, before he reached over and plucked the plate of destroyed cookies from Kaito and rose to clean it off. He returned moments later, fresh cookies in place, and set it back down in front of him. "Now, enough of this depressing subject! How are your studies going?"

Kaito blinked up at the man, taken aback at the change in topics for a moment, then smiled faintly and let himself be distracted. "Well, I do remember much of this semester's work…"

* * *

 **Eh. Not much to say. The last couple of months have been rough, this month has been rough, but I've still got more written for this story. So don't worry, DE will be finished.**

 **Ja ne~**


	14. More Tort-- I Mean Training

Disclaimer: Bleach, sadly, does not belong to me. I'm just not that good at drawing people.

Welp, a few days late, and I'm sorry about that, but! Chapter 14 is here!

* * *

The night after pounding some sense into his past self, Kaito couldn't sleep. This was the night that Kuchiki had been taken back, the night where the final unraveling had begun, and there was nothing he could do to interfere if everything went downhill. Not if he wanted Aizen's attention on Kurosaki while he snuck in to stab the man in the back.

Instead, he sat up with Urahara, staring blankly at the closed shop door and ignoring the sounds of mindless cleaning that were coming from the kitchen. Tsukabishi was handling the stress in his own way, while he and Urahara were just… sitting. Motionless. Waiting.

To their credit, the two hadn't even attempted to convince him to sleep and leave it all to them. They had let him stay up, let him keep vigil. And even if a distant part of him realized that this was just another way that they could keep an eye on him, he still appreciated the implicit inclusion the action showed.

His hands tightened on the edges of his shirt as reiatsu rose near the edge of town, flaring and clashing together. Kurosaki's reiatsu was so much stronger than he remembered it being during this event, honed and precise in a way that it had only gained partway through the invasion of Seireitei. Again he found himself hoping that his meddling hadn't made things worse for them.

Kaito stilled as he sensed _Ishida's_ reiatsu, rising to prominence while Kurosaki was still on his feet. _That_ was a change he hadn't been expecting, and he winced at the way Kuchiki Byakuya's reiatsu roared to life, heavy with frustration and disbelief.

"They'll be fine," Urahara spoke calmly. "Byakuya's not in a killing mood, so he'll leave both of them alive."

"But what if they push him too far?" Kaito asked, trying to keep his voice even. "Kurosaki can't match him without his own blade, and Ishida's not yet experienced enough against a fighter like Kuchiki."

"They'll be fine," Urahara repeated, even as they could both sense the sudden disappearance of Kurosaki's reiatsu, like a river in flood suddenly vanishing.

Kaito winced, kept from leaping to his feet only by the strong grip Urahara had on his upper arm. Seconds later, Ishida's reiatsu faded back to a background murmur, and everything seemed to calm down at last.

"Let's go," Urahara murmured, releasing Kaito's arm and rising to stand. Tsukabishi appeared moments later, expression grim and reiatsu coiled tight.

Kaito scrambled to his feet as well, following Urahara out the door and down the street, the three of them using shunpo to flit from shadow to shadow. Ahead of them, Kuchiki Byakuya's reiatsu hummed quietly, accompanied by the snap-flare of Abarai's own wilder power.

Urahara kept them moving at a slow pace, taking short shunpo steps that Kaito could track by eye. He knew they had to wait until the two Shinigami left with Rukia, but the emptiness in the air, the missing blanket of living reiatsu that Kurosaki constantly exuded, was making him anxious and fidgety. He wanted to see, wanted to _know_ , that Kurosaki was still alive, even if currently severed from the powers he had been relying upon.

Finally, _finally_ , the presence of the two Shinigami disappeared, and Urahara stretched his legs into a flurry of shunpo steps that Kaito could barely track, much less keep up with. He arrived at the scene seconds after the shopkeeper and paused at the edge of the streetlight, taking in the destruction that scarred the area.

His breath stuttered in his throat, his gaze fixed on Kurosaki's still form, and all he could see was _black-sky-heavy-moon-pale-dome-demon-demon-DEMON!_ Metallic scented blood flooded his senses. Drowned out reality. He was back on that dome, staring at Kurosaki's broken body, listening to Inoue's screams of denial. Listening to Ulquiorra's taunts.

A hand touched his shoulder. Kaito reacted. Lashed out. Flipped his attacker aside in a flurry of violence. Sent a flurry of arrows after him.

"Kaito!"

(*Wake up!*)

( ***Dammit, snap th'fuck outta it, koneko!*** )

Kaito blinked once. Stared blankly at the black bow in his hands, then at Tsukabishi as the man pulled himself out of the crater Kaito had created. He released a shuddering breath and allowed his bow to dissolve.

"Sorry," he told Tsukabishi quietly, as the other slowly walked back towards him, hands up in a show up being unarmed. He knew it was just a show, that Tsukabishi was just as dangerous as ever, but… it helped. Made the last wisps of paranoia fade back into his heart.

"It's alright," the man replied just as quietly. "I should have expected a reaction like that. You've grown quite powerful since you first arrived."

Kaito gave the man a wan smile, then took a deep breath a braced himself, turning to look at Kurosaki's body again. As the blood started to rush through his ears again, he focused as hard as he could on Urahara, on the green glow that spread out from the shopkeeper's hands. Green meant healing. Green meant life. Green meant _Kurosaki wasn't dead._

Just to be sure, he crossed the distance and knelt at Kurosaki's other side. The tension drained from his body the moment he finally saw the slow movement in the teen's chest.

(*Shit, did I..?*)

( _*You looked… very similar, when I came upon you in our timeline,*_ ) Kaito admitted. It hadn't bothered him quite as much back then, but he hadn't enjoyed the sight either.

"He'll be fine," Urahara informed him confidently, even as the green glow of healing kido cut off. "His will to live saw him through the worst of it, and my kido patched up the rest. He'll be hurting, but it's nothing time and training can't take care of."

Kaito gave a shallow nod, though he couldn't resist reaching out to rest his fingers against the pulse-point on Kurosaki's neck, reassured beyond even Urahara's words to feel the steady beat. Fears assuaged, Kaito rose back to his feet and turned to check on Ishida.

The teen was sitting up already, Tsukabishi healing the few wounds that Ishida had picked up in the brief combat. Ishida's gaze was moving from Kurosaki's body, to Kaito, to the crater that Kaito had caused and back, a considering look in his eyes as he did.

"I've seen far too much death," Kaito informed the teen bluntly, trying to head off any strange leaps of logic that might already be forming. "This was… very similar to how I found one of my friends."

"I see," Ishida replied a bit awkwardly, almost as if he wanted to say something more but didn't know how.

Kaito gave the teen another wan smile, feeling unable to pretend under the dark, dark sky with the scent of metallic blood heavy in his nose. "I'll be fine, and so will Kurosaki."

Ishida nodded thankfully to him, then lapsed back into silence as Tsukabishi finished healing the last of his wounds.

"Kaito, if you could carry Kurosaki, please?" Urahara called, as he pushed himself to his feet and looked over at him. "I'll set up a futon in the empty room we have, so if you could bring him there, we'll let him sleep it off."

He nodded at Urahara to show that he had heard, then glanced over at Ishida again as the teen rose stiffly to his own feet. Kaito contemplated the other for a long moment, then said firmly, "Kurosaki will want to save her. Meet me in the training ground tomorrow after your classes and we'll train."

Ishida gave him a considering look, suspicious and thoughtful all at once. "And if I refuse?"

"Do you believe you can become stronger on your own?"

Kaito saw it, the moment of hesitation as the lesson he had beaten into Ishida's head warred with years of doing everything himself. It was a war that Kaito had never truly won, not until it was far too late to mean anything, and he had to wonder if that one session would be enough.

Finally, Ishida made his decision, and Kaito felt his tension slipping away when the teen inclined his head slightly.

"I'll be there."

"I won't go easy on you," Kaito promised, while stepping over to Kurosaki and gently scooping up the unconscious teen.

Ishida glowered at him and turned on his heel to stalk back to his own apartment. "I wouldn't expect you to be."

(*A win?*) Ichigo asked curiously.

( _*A win.*_ ) Kaito couldn't help the pleased smirk that tugged at his lips. Things were changing, and for once he felt hopeful for the future.

* * *

Kaito waited in the empty shop, turning over and discarding plan after plan. How would he train his past self? What would he focus on? Should he do it here, or outside of town? The training room was quite large, but he didn't know how much of that his father needed to use for the training that Kurosaki was going to receive.

(*I don't think we used that much of the area,*) Ichigo spoke up, trying to remember what he could of that short, brutal training. (*Just try to keep your arrows to yourself.*)

He made a soft noise of understanding. The best way _he_ knew to keep them separate was a barrier like he'd seen some of the Shinigami create. And the best way he knew how to deal with _that_ …

Was to ask Tsukabishi.

Mind made up, Kaito rose from his seat on the tatami mat and headed into the back. He doubted there would be any customers in the short time he was away, and even if there were, the kitchen wasn't that far away from the public space.

The scent of cooking hung heavy in the air as Kaito approached the kitchen door and rapped lightly on the frame. Tsukabishi was cooking up what looked like a mountain's worth of food, all things that Kaito recognized as food that kept and required little effort to be edible later on. Given the man's distraction, Kaito patiently waited at the doorway to be acknowledged, before finally stepping into the room and moving to the side where he wouldn't be in the way.

"Did you need something, Kaito-kun?"

Kaito hesitated for a moment, then nodded and asked, "Could you create a barrier around a section of the training ground? I wish to train Ishida in privacy, but I don't want to be endangered or to endanger you or the others while doing so."

"That won't be a problem, Kaito-kun," Tsukabishi replied easily. He slid a tray of food into the oven to bake, then turned around to look at Kaito once the timer was set. "I know several barriers that could provide the type of safety you wish. Do you know what you'll teach him?"

"At this point…" Kaito began, before trailing off in a mixture of shame and frustration. The glove had given him the strength to survive — briefly! — against a Captain, but the price it had cost him was one he was unwilling to allow Ishida to face. His pride had kept him from advancing, had forced him to lag behind Ichigo while he spent months powerless and weak, and turned Hueco Mundo into a death trap. Kaito clenched his fists, forced himself to breath, and resumed speaking, "At this point, I trained with a certain item in order to hone my ability to gather reishi. I refuse to allow Ishida to fall into the same trap I did. Though I am unsure how I will managed to replicate such training."

Tsukabishi pursed his lips and tugged on his mustache for a moment. Finally, he spoke slowly, gaze still a bit distant, "There's a barrier that I believe I could modify to restrict the flow of reishi into a space. If I paired that with a barrier to keep our training groups separate, that should work to achieve what you want."

He considered the offer. There were downsides, of course, especially because he would be under the same limitations as Ishida, but he also had a vaster internal store of reiryoku than the other did. He would need to make sure he wasn't spilling his reiatsu everywhere, but that was something he needed to practice anyway. Finally, with a firm nod, he made his decision. "I would appreciate it if you could. It won't be quite the same, but it should hone his precision anyway, especially if I'm fighting him at the same time.

"Then I will do so," Tsukabishi told him while wiping his hands clean and setting the towel down on the counter. "Come, we will see how well my modification will work in practice."

Kaito followed the kido expert out of the kitchen and down into the training grounds. Tsukabishi led the way to a far corner of the place, darting into the air to get a better view of the area around them. When Kaito joined him in the sky, the man made a few gestures and formed a glowing line that outlined an area. "Would that be enough space?"

Kaito considered the contained area thoughtfully, then shook his head. "Could you make it a bit bigger? I don't want to have too much room, but we'll be training as archers, not swordsmen."

Tsukabishi nodded his understanding and moved the line out a bit, step by small step, until Kaito finally indicated his acceptance of the outlined area. It was, to his eye, just enough space to tease at the limits of a good archery battle, but not too much that Kaito would have to go out of his way to hunt down Ishida.

"If you would descend into the area?" Tsukabishi asked.

Kaito darted down to land inside the demarcated zone, then turned to stare up at Tsukabishi, waiting for whatever the man was going to do next.

He didn't have to wait long. The man had begun to chant quietly the moment Kaito had crossed the marker line, and a bare minute after Kaito had landed a strange, shimmering curtain rose up from the ground and arced overhead until he was sealed inside a green barrier. It reminded him of images he'd seen of the aurora, and he had to wonder if it was actually a true seal, considering the apparent thinness of the barrier overhead.

"Try gathering reishi," Tsukabishi ordered from outside the barrier, distracting Kaito from his contemplation of the barrier around him.

He reached out and pulled the free reishi towards him, compacting it into the beginning form of Lichtregen. The more he gathered, the more he noticed that it wasn't coming as quickly to his grasp as before. Slowly he move forward, trying to split his concentration between walking, holding the attack, and gathering the reishi. A wry smile touched his lips, as he thought briefly back to that moment in Hueco Mundo, where Ichigo questioned him about this very action.

It did work after all. Who knew.

Still, he was finding it hard. Not just the moving while gathering, but the gathering in general. The concentration of reishi all around him was dropping like a stone, and it wasn't replenishing the way he was accustomed to. Curious to know if he was right about the thinness of the barrier, Kaito carefully darted up towards the top, coming to a stop just below the shimmering green that marked the barrier.

Even here, where he could stare at the painted sky with only the faintest of green tinting his view, he could sense no more than the tiniest of trickles slipping through. Satisfied with this, Kaito descended once more to stand opposite Tsukabishi.

"Well?"

"The free reishi isn't replenishing the way I would normally expect it to," Kaito informed the man. "I think I've gathered about everything I can touch."

Tsukabishi seemed pleased with Kaito's words. "Good. If you want to fight in a reishi-poor zone, I believe you should be able to leave this barrier with what you've gathered."

Kaito pursed his lips, wondering at that. The barrier was meant to prevent the passage of reishi. Could he really just leave with the gathered power?

He reached out a hand towards the barrier, feeling it give way before him almost like gelatin. There was no pain from the action, so he slowly pushed himself through, and had almost made it when it felt like he became caught on something. A glance over his shoulder showed the quiver to be the cause, but also showed him that it was partway through the barrier already.

(*Maybe it's still too much like reishi?*)

Kaito considered that for a moment, turning Ichigo's words over in his mind, before he narrowed his eyes and flooded his own power through the quiver. In a flash it turned his signature emerald green and the barrier suddenly released him to stumble forward. Once out, it was the work of a moment to draw his bow and fire the attack straight up into the air to impact and disperse against the ceiling. He had no reason to carry around a charged Lichtregen, after all.

"I will leave this barrier up, Tsukabishi told him as they started to move back towards the ladder that led out. "When we come back down to train, I'll put up the second barrier to keep our attacks from interfering with each other."

"Thank you," Kaito told Tsukabishi, with a glance back at the shimmering dome that was visible in the distance. "This makes things much easier."

Tsukabishi nodded in acknowledgment and headed up, with Kaito following just behind.

The barrier would not allow Ishida to gain the same sort of strength that Kaito had earned when he reached this decision point, but perhaps it would be a greater strength. The sanrei glove had been a brittle, fake strength; a perfect final strike in everything that mattered, but this was not a situation where a final strike was warranted.

For one thing, he didn't intend to allow himself or his past self to die.

(*You'll probably need to release some reiatsu into the area,*) Ichigo said after a moment. (*You pulled most of the free reishi that you could touch, after all the training you've already had. Your past self isn't there yet.*)

Kaito nodded thoughtfully, having considered their differences in that regard. It had been a bit of a shock to realize how far ahead of his past self he was, but now he knew he needed to take into account the other's lesser experience.

He reached the top of the ladder just in time to hear the door of the shop slide open, and paused for a moment before he realized that Tsukabishi hadn't closed the trapdoor behind him. The idea that it might have been a normal human was shot out of the water the moment he heard Kurosaki's grumbled comment about dumb idiots, followed by Ishida's return shot of taking one to know one.

With an amused feeling in his chest, Kaito climbed the last few rungs and stood up, gaze moving from Kurosaki and back to Ishida, taking in their appearances and the weary tilts of their bodies. He could already feel a smirk starting to form at the further torture he was going to put his past self through, and did nothing to hide it away. The burning fury that had ignited in him last time was missing, leaving him looking forward to these next few days the same way he had looked forward to beating up Kurosaki whenever the teen had come to the shop for a spar.

Ishida had went to Kurosaki's aid, before Kurosaki fell.

He had agreed to training.

The boy wasn't hopeless.

"He says you're going to train him?" Kurosaki demanded, the moment he caught sight of Kaito.

Kaito smiled at Kurosaki, making the other fidget slightly. "You're going after her, aren't you?"

"Of course I am!"

"Then why should you be the only one trained?" Kaito asked with as much puzzlement as he could gather. "Unless you think you're good enough to take on an entire society of people like what you faced last night, on your own?"

"No!" Kurosaki yelped, shaking his head a bit wildly, "No, I don't believe that! I just don't want other people to risk their lives like that and—"

"And you thought you could decide for them?" Kaito gave Kurosaki his best Shiro-smile, making the other teen take a step back and raise his hands in denial. "Take away their options and leave them out of things? My, my, I had thought _Ishida_ was the lone wolf I had to worry about."

Ishida, perhaps wisely, took two large steps to the side to separate himself from Kurosaki and ignored the sour look that Kurosaki shot him in reaction. "You said it, not me."

Kurosaki growled, crossed his arms over his chest, and tried to look intimidating. "That is _not_ what I meant and you know it! I just don't want too many people involved in this, and there aren't that many I'd trust anyway—"

"What about, hmm, what were their names…" Kaito tilted his head up a bit, pretending to search for the names of Sado and Inoue. This version of himself had only met the two once, after all. "Ah, yes. Sado Yasutora and Inoue Orihime? Their powers—"

"No," Kurosaki declared firmly while glaring at Kaito. "They don't need to be involved in this."

"Mou, well, if you say so!" Kaito smiled brightly, internally laughing at the way it brought a tick to the corner of one of Kurosaki's eyes. He then beckoned for Ishida to descend the ladder. "I just thought you'd want them at least trained a bit, since their powers are already waking up."

"What?!"

"Oh, didn't you know?" Kaito widened his eyes a bit to project surprise, then smiled and shrugged. "All that time around you has made all those people I was introduced to just a bit sensitive, but those two… well, it wouldn't surprise me if a Hollow came after them and they snapped awake out of self-defense."

It was what had happened in his timeline, after all. That he had prevented it so far meant very little in the long run; Karakura was rife with Hollows and Hollow attacks, and it would take but a single moment of inattention to leave them either dead or empowered.

"Then that's what they'll do," Kurosaki growled. "You are _not_ going to drag them into this mess, do you understand me?"

"Maa, maa, of course I do. I promise I will not drag them into anything," Kaito replied airily, before descending back down into the training room before Kurosaki could do anything more than sputter in confused protest.

"We're going to head inside that barrier over there," he told Ishida the moment he stepped off the ladder. "I'm going to be honing your precision at gathering reishi in the middle of combat."

Ishida gave him a suspicious look, but still followed his directions and headed towards the barrier in the distance. Once they reached it, the teen paused for a moment just outside of it, then passed through the barrier in one quick rush. Once through, he stopped dead in his tracks, a flicker of panic crossing his features that Kaito only just caught as he stepped through as well.

"I can't sense _anything_ in here," Ishida informed him, eyes wide and hands trembling slightly at his side.

Kaito frowned a bit. Was his sensitivity really that heightened by everything he had gone through. Because there was reishi in the air that he could sense. Not enough for him to build even a third of a true Lichtregen up, but certainly enough to fight with.

"We'll work on that," Kaito informed Ishida firmly, as he started heading towards the center of the barrier area. Carefully, he increased his reiatsu output until he was leaving faint trails of power in his wake. He could tell the instant it crossed Ishidia's sensitivity, because the teen relaxed and his hands ceased trembling. Making note of that, Kaito reeling his power back in as firmly as he could; there was no way he could avoid spilling power while in combat, but he was getting to be a fair hand at keeping himself contained otherwise. "You've lived in this town all your life, with Kurosaki spilling power everywhere he went. I'm not surprised your senses are dulled by it all."

A second barrier went up around the first, enclosing them in another layer of protection.

"What's that for?" Ishida asked warily, as he stared at the barely visible box that had formed on the outside of the green barrier.

"It's a barrier to keep our training separate from theirs," Kaito told Ishida. "Kurosaki needs to regain his powers, and _we_ will be training as archers. I would rather neither of our attempts interferes with the other."

Ishida nodded in understanding, then hesitantly raised his hand and summoned up his bow. It flickered once, before firming under Ishida's dark frown.

"Good, your will and your internal reiryoku can help you overcome reishi-poor areas," Kaito told Ishida, before forming his own bow and using a burst of shunpo to leap backwards, then another couple to climb atop a large boulder, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "I do hope you aren't attached to that outfit, because I doubt there'll be much left of it once I'm through with you."

Ishida squawked as the first flurry of arrows came straight at him, and attempted to dart away in a burst of hirenkyaku, only to tumble forward a few steps away.

"Will and focus!" Kaito called out in amusement.

Ishida snarled and spun, arrowing forming in a heartbeat and launching straight from his bow. "Doesn't help when there's no reishi to support me!"

"Trust me, there's plenty around!"

Ishida's only answer was another arrow, but Kaito easily shot that one out of the air as well. With a chuckle, he held his ground and decided to play sniper, much to Ishida's clear dismay.

It was child's play to continually snipe down Ishida's weak strikes, and his own return volleys left the boy with few options. Kaito kept pressing him, driving him from cover to cover, being careful about how much of his own personal power he used. If he wanted this to actually be a lesson in reishi gathering, he needed to keep things low. It meant he was relying upon just the reishi in the air, keeping his own personal reiatsu tucked as tightly away as he could.

It was clearly wearing on Ishida, the longer it went on. Even from his perch atop a rock, Kaito could see the stress and exhaustion that was building in his past self. Ishida's arrows were often shot wide, missing Kaito by so much that he didn't even need to bother shooting them down to keep from moving. On the other hand, the boy's hirenkyaku was going further and faster before Ishida ran out of power and stumbled to a halt.

A wild, pleased grin tugging at his lips, Kaito set himself to hunting his past self, all in the name of training. Oh, the things he did to help everything along!

* * *

"You… are cruel…" Ishida panted, doubled over with his hands on his knees and his shoulders heaving as his body attempted to regain its breath. Like Kaito had promised at the beginning, Ishida's clothes were tattered and worn, especially his shirt and cape, and much of the rest of the white cloth was stained with ribbons of crimson from various injuries.

Kaito smiled brightly, "Mou, Ishida-kun, you're the one who agreed to this!"

"And I… regret that… with all I… am."

"Splendid!" Kaito chirped like Urahara did, drawing a wince from the teen in front of him. "It means I'm doing something right, then!"

"So what are we doing now?" Ishida asked once he finally regained control of his breathing and had straightened up. He glanced up at the twin barriers still protecting them, then down at Kaito.

Kaito made a thoughtful noise, then shrugged his shoulders and started to make his way towards the far corner. "We'll stay within the barriers. Father told me that it will take three days to retrain Kurosaki-san, so I'd rather not draw Tsukabishi-san's attention away from that."

Ishida looked surprised, then thoughtful, but followed him willingly enough across the broken terrain. That level of trust surprised Kaito, given Ishida's previous experience with him and how little Kaito himself had been willing to trust others at this point in time, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Were you… being honest before? About Sado-san and Inoue-san?"

"About them being capable of joining us? Yes. They'll need to be properly awoken, but I know Sado-san is already at least half-way there," Kaito told Ishida with a nod, before pushing his way out of the inner barrier and into the small zone between the inner and outer barriers. Ishida followed him out and breathed an audible sigh of relief at the immediate flood of power that washed over his senses.

Kaito, curious as to whether he was right about something, headed towards where he remembered the healing spring being. To his pleasure, Tsukabishi _had_ left it within the barrier, and Kaito didn't take more than a few moments to strip down and settle into the heated water. Even if it hadn't actually taken any injuries, it was still a pleasant experience. The warm water, the faint whisper of healing brushing against his body and, better yet, this time his spirits remained within his head.

He heard the cautious splash as Ishida followed him into the water, and smirked at the quick intake of breath as Ishida noticed the effect of the spring.

"It's a healing spring that Father made," Kaito told Ishida casually, as he stretched out and relaxed. "For those times when training takes its toll on us. Usually me, for now, but I hope to one day push him far enough that _he_ needs to use this pool for more than just relaxation."

"Like you're doing right now?" Ishida asked dryly. He carefully splashed water across his injuries, then moved to wash his hair out. He'd taken more than one spill face-first into the dusty ground, and his hair was a dirty, sweaty mess as a result.

Kaito made a noise of agreement, tipping his head back and allowing his eyes to slide closed. It was so _nice_ to have no reason besides relaxation to enjoy the hot spring, and it made him seriously consider coming down just for this on occasion. A hot bath was great, but this was somehow a step above even that.

"What… am I going to do for clothing?" Ishida asked awkwardly, as he sat back up and settled back to try and enjoy the warmth himself.

"Tsukabishi-san would have brought some over for both of us," Kaito answered the teen with an absent wave towards where he suspected their supplies had be placed. "Along with sleeping mats, food, and everything else we'll need to camp out here for three days."

Silence descended over the two of them, broken only by the gentle splashing of the water as they shifted. Kaito allowed himself to relax, pulling himself partially down into his mindscape and just letting the presence of his three spirits sooth him. Ichigo was content, at peace, pleased with how Kaito had handled the day. Zangetsu remained a stoic pillar of support, satisfied with being relied upon but not needed as a crutch. Even Shiro wasn't kicking up a fuss, secure in the knowledge that Kaito would need him soon enough, and that Aizen was soon to fall.

Finally, long after Kaito had lost track of time, he pulled himself back to full awareness and sat up, only to give a soft chuckle of amusement at the sight that greeted his eyes. Ishida had fallen asleep in the pool, head lolling back against a rock he had been using as a backrest, exhaustion clear in his expression. Kaito contemplated his past self for a moment, then quietly rose from the hot spring and grabbed a towel from a nearby stack in order to dry himself with.

Not wanting to wake the other teen, Kaito kept his movements quiet and steady as he moved over to where Yoruichi had once made him camp, finding everything set out much like he had expected. Two sleeping mats, several blankets, stacks of clothing — and boy, wouldn't Ishida twitch when he realized that Tsukabishi had likely raided the boy's own house for clothing — and both food and water aplenty.

Luckily, most of the food was the prepared sort that Kaito had watched Tsukabishi cooking earlier in the day. He didn't want to imagine having to cook out here. He could do simple things, so long as he had the supplies, but he'd never done anything akin to campfire cooking.

Instead, there was a collection of prepared foods set out underneath little barriers that Kaito was certain were either stasis or refrigeration. After a moment's contemplation, Kaito selected a pot of what looked to be stew, and reached through the little barrier to grab it. The barrier shattered the moment his hand touched the pot's handles, and Kaito carried it over to the hotplate that had been provided. Once he was sure the stew was still heated through, and that the hotplate was working, Kaito rose to head back to the pool.

He grabbed another towel off the pile as he passed and set it down nearby as he knelt next to the sleeping teen. Kaito gently shook the other's shoulder, chuckling a bit as Ishida yelped and sat upright sharply, looking around with a wild gaze for a moment before his current situation settled back in his mind.

"Maa, Ishida-kun, you fell asleep," Kaito told the other cheerfully, sitting back on his heels and proffering the towel he had collected. "Dinner's heating up, so you had best come eat something before you fall back asleep."

Ishida nodded, accepting the towel and exiting the hot spring while Kaito rose back to his feet and slowly meandered back towards the little camp. By the time Ishida trailed in after him, Kaito was already dishing up two bowls of stew. Though he didn't look up to watch the other, Kaito had to hide a smirk as he heard Ishida's movements freeze, likely at the sight of the clothing that Kaito had set out for him on one of the sleeping mats.

"These are mine."

"Oh? Did you expect to have to wear my clothing?" Kaito asked while turning around with a bowl in each hand. He placed them on the little table he had set up, followed by a couple of spoons and a few rolls that Tsukabishi had also provided them. "I didn't think you'd enjoy my tastes."

Ishida's sigh was followed by rustling cloth as the boy got dressed, and then he was settling onto a thin pillow in front of the low table, staring dubiously at the bowl of stew in front of him.

Kaito pouted, pulling up everything he remembered seeing Urahara doing whenever the man tried to act pitiful. "Mou, you're going to hurt my feelings, Ishida-kun. I promise you it's not poisoned."

The face Ishida made had Kaito chuckling again, but he otherwise ignored the other as he settled in to eat what he'd served for himself. Tsukabishi's cooking was amazing as always, even kept under stasis and reheated. Even better, it was filling and had enough in it to help restore Ishida's energy that he had burned during the afternoon.

He set his bowl aside after a second serving and stretched, content with allowing the silence to remain over them until Ishida was also finished with his multiple helpings. Kaito then nodded towards the second pot that he had filled with water and had heating over the hotplate while they ate. "If you could clean our dishes up, I'll deal with the remains of our meal."

Ishida didn't complain, just set to his task quickly and efficiently as Kaito sealed the leftovers in a container and went to rinse out the pot itself.

"Why are you doing this?"

Kaito blinked, pausing in his cleanup, and looked over at Ishida. The teen wasn't looking up at him, his gaze focused down on the bowls and spoons that he was supposed to be washing, but his movements were slow and absent-minded. "Doing what?"

"Helping me," Ishida clarified. He took a breath and finally lifted his head, staring at Kaito with an unreadable gaze. "The other day… you hated me. I _felt it_. If you had… if you had managed to kill me, your only regret would have been Kurosaki's hate."

Kaito met Ishida's stare with one of his own, wondering how best to approach this topic. He had thought it resolved already, but clearly there remained some doubts within Ishida's mind. "If you feel that way, then why did you accept my help?"

Ishida's lips thinned into a wary grimace. "Because you're strong. Because you offered. Because… because there was… _something_ about you, last night. The way you reacted to Kurosaki there, the way you spoke…"

"I don't hate you," Kaito spoke into the silence that had fallen between them. He dumped the last of the water from the stew pot and set it aside, then rose to fill a teapot and set it up to boil. The simple actions of gathering teacups and preparing the tea helped to ground him, and the pleasant smell of the brew steeping helped him order his thoughts. "I hate… what you could become."

"I don't understand." Ishida set the cleaned dishes aside, and settled once more across from Kaito. He accepted a cup of tea, though didn't drink.

Kaito took a sip, then another, struggling to find the words to explain without revealing his biggest secret. "I see… much of myself in you. Specifically, in how I viewed the world. Mother was always on about how the Shinigami were to be feared and guarded against, and I accepted that as truth. They were next to useless, after all, but they were still powerful, and if they took offense at someone it was… never very pretty."

Ichigo and Zangetsu shifted within him, passing on their support to the lie he was weaving. Kaito appreciated it, appreciated them, and distantly wondered how he could have ever lived without the constant support and reinforcement from within.

"You need to be aware, since we're heading into Soul Society soon," Kaito continued. "The Shinigami have little to do with the outer Rukongai, and Hollow attacks are not precisely uncommon out there."

"So they're just as useless in their own realm as they are here."

Kaito nodded. "Yes. But remember what I said before; the vast majority are hopeless followers. Sheep who do little but follow the orders of their shepherd, and their Captains are mostly tangled up in bureaucracy and paperwork. That a Captain was free enough to retrieve Kuchiki is either a mark of who she is, or of that Captain taking a personal interest in her."

"She called him her brother a few times," Ishida offered after a moment's thought.

"Ah. I suppose that answers that," Kaito mused, as if this information was new to him. He then shrugged and took another sip of tea before pouring a bit more into his cup. "In any case. Before father's friend found me and brought me here, I was doing my best to survive. Mother finally fell to a Hollow when I was out hunting food for us, and I was… I came back to a ruined house and Hollow tracks everywhere. But not a single damn Shinigami. I hated them. I wanted to _kill_ them."

"What stopped you?"

"A friend. He kept my attention on him, and away from charging blindly into trouble."

"The friend that died," Ishida spoke with confidence.

Kaito nodded in agreement, gaze focused over Ishida's shoulder and distant with thought. "It was a stupid bit of pride that saw him dead. Neither one of us fought as a team. It was always just trying to show each other up, a constant struggle for supremacy between us. He bit off more than he could chew, and I was too late to do anything but avenge his death. And even that saw me nearly die upon the beast's weapons, myself. If Yoruichi-san hadn't shown up in time, I likely would have died from either my injuries or the Shinigami that were coming to investigate the flares of reiatsu."

"After that… well, hate just seemed so… pointless." Kaito focused his gaze on Ishida, willing the teen to understand. While it was weeks after Ichigo's death when Kaito had decided that holding onto all his hate was doing nothing for him, that moment was still the turning point in everything he'd believed in. "There are still people I hate, people I will see _dead_ if it's the last thing I do, but I can't afford to live by it anymore. And you… I looked at you. I heard your words. I saw myself and my friend, and I _hated you_."

Ishida shifted backwards at Kaito's curled lip and cold gaze, eyes wide and wary. He set his untouched tea down on the table, hand trembling enough that the liquid spilled over the cup's sides and splashed across the wood. "And… now?"

"You'll do," Kaito said, reeling back in his reiatsu and determinedly restraining it within his body once more. He hadn't meant to let it spill out, but thinking on his own past idiocies was apparently a sore point that he was going to need to work on. "You at least began to work with Kurosaki-san the other day, and you came to his aid before he had fallen, which is more than I ever really managed to do."

Ishida slowly relaxed, though he didn't reach for his tea. Silence settled between them once more, broken only by Kaito pouring himself more of the tea and setting the teapot down again.

Kaito watched Ishida carefully, wondering if he had driven the teen to truly fear him this time. But it didn't seem as if that was the case; Ishida seemed to be thoughtful, not fearful, especially now that Kaito had restrained himself. Deciding that some actual encouragement would do more to win the teen over than more silence, Kaito spoke up again, "You did well today. You visibly improved in the few hours we had available, and I suspect if you continue to improve like this you will be a match for many of the seated officers, and perhaps even a few of the Lieutenants."

"But not a Captain?" Ishida asked pointedly, jarred from his thoughts and apparently suspicious of anything Kaito had to say.

Kaito hesitated a moment, then shrugged. "Well, that depends on both you and them. Many will underestimate you because of your youth, others because you're an archer, still others because you're a human. If you get into combat with one, if you keep your head and don't give them any leeway to realize their mistakes, victory won't be out of your reach."

"But not assured."

"Nothing is assured," Kaito told Ishida with a wry twist of his lips. "Remember, Ishida-kun, you are discussing beating warriors who have been fighting for centuries, in some cases. Power is only a part of the solution."

He could see the way Ishida was turning Kaito's words over in his mind, likely comparing them to what he had experienced while facing Kuchiki-taicho and Abarai.

(*What are you trying to get him to do?*) Ichigo asked curiously, as they waited in silence for… something to happen.

( _*To think,*_ ) Kaito replied simply, taking another sip of his tea and allowing the silence to stretch, not pushing his past self any more than he already had. ( _*Urahara has been trying to correct my own mistakes. I realize this now. It's made me think back on everything I've done, that we've done, and, well… I always thought myself so very clever, but now…*_ )

Ichigo made a thoughtful sound, clearly pausing to think before he answered. And that, too, was a mark of how far they'd changed together. With his new perspective on the world, Kaito was coming to realize that neither of them were master tacticians, especially compared to people like Urahara. Their victories had come from luck and the sheer unpredictability of untrained beginners with more guts than sense. But as soon as people got used to their habits and thought processes, they became predictable.

(*You've been trying to correct that for both of our past selves,*) Ichigo spoke slowly, working through his thoughts as he did. (*First working with my past self, and then this with your own…*)

Kaito nodded shallowly, then drained the last of his tea from his cup and set it down with a gentle clink. He rose from his seat and inclined his head to Ishida. "Think on it, but don't stay up all night. Tomorrow will be a full day."

He didn't get an answer, not that he expected one, and moved away to his sleeping mat to settle down for rest. Whether or not his past self was intelligent and went to sleep, there would still be training tomorrow.

* * *

Kaito had to shake Ishida awake the next morning, and gave the sleepy teen an amused smile at the way he glowered and tried to glare and just ended up looking like he was pouting.

"I warned you to sleep!" Kaito chirped, as he shoved an opened energy bar into Ishida's hand, followed by a bag containing several more and a couple canteens of water. "We're going to be training all day today, so these will help you keep your energy up."

"How can you be so cheerful," Ishida grumbled while reluctantly following Kaito back towards the inner barrier. He took a bite of the bar in his hand and his face instantly screwed up into an expression of disgust as he forced himself to swallow it. "Or eat these things! Augh, what the hell's even _in_ this, it's disgusting!"

"Unlike _someone_ , I actually got a full night's sleep!" Kaito declared with a grin. He motioned for Ishida to remain on the outside for a moment, then stepped through himself in order to gather up the reishi that had pooled during their fight yesterday and the little that had drifted in overnight. "As for the bar, just take little bites and swallow it quickly."

"I don't know how this counts as food," Ishida muttered with a baleful glare at the thing in his hand. He did, however, follow Kaito's instructions to take smaller bites. "It's too sweet, and so sticky."

Kaito laughed at his past self's reaction; misery shared and all that tripe, after all! Still, he needed to focus on his actual goal, instead of just enjoying Ishida's pain. He reached as far as he could into the enclosed area, gathering every scrap of reishi that he could reach and compacting it into a quiver along his back. As the ambient levels balanced themselves out, Kaito kept drawing in as much as he could, until it reached a level lower than he had started with the day before. He would need to release some power into the air when Ishida entered, of course, but it was better to start as low as possible in order to make Ishida struggle for it.

Flushing his own power through the quiver to make it his, Kaito turned and stepped back through the barrier. A moment's thought and his bow was in his hand, all that power concentrated into a single massive strike fired straight up at the barrier above them. It impacted and shattered like a firework, but didn't even make the barrier waver; Tsukabishi's skill shining through despite how inoffensive the man often looked.

Ishida, too, was staring up at the barrier they were inside, eyes clouded with tiredness and circling thoughts that had clearly not left the teen alone all night.

"Maa, are you going to stare at the sky all day?" Kaito asked curiously, pausing halfway through the shimmering curtain of light. "Or do you want to get stronger?"

Ishida shook his head, clearly trying to dispel his circling thoughts, and stalked through the barrier with his shoulders pulled back and his back straight. Even the hitch in his step and the trembling of his hands was less than the day before once he was faced with the 'null zone' that Kaito had created. "Let's get on with this, then."

Kaito gave the teen a wolfish grin, releasing a bit of reiatsu into the air for Ishida to work with, and said, "Then run, little rabbit. Before I catch you yet again."

The look Ishida shot him was all fury and injured pride, but something in Kaito's expression had him backing away and darting off as quickly as he could make himself go.

(*Please stop channeling Shiro,*) Ichigo murmured. (*You're _really_ frightening like that…* )

Kaito just laughed, adjusted his Quincy bow, and casually strolled off into the training ground. Maybe Ishida would actually be able to attack him today. That would be exciting!

* * *

Kaito swayed to the side, letting Ishida's arrows sail harmlessly past him. Before the teen could attempt to manipulate their path, Kaito reached out and deconstructed the attack to use the reishi against Ishida in turn. After all, his past self had proven basic mastery at path manipulation, so now he needed to realize that he couldn't always rely on that.

At least his hope had proven true. Ishida _was_ capable of striking back in a meaningful way today, Kaito mused, as another volley of arrows sailed towards him. They were all relatively weak, thanks to the low amount of reishi in the air, but the fact that Ishida was becoming capable enough to send six at him instead of a single badly aimed arrow spoke volumes about the teen's improvement.

Pleased with the progress the other was making, Kaito shot those arrows down, sent another small barrage towards the teen, and surreptitiously siphoned some of the free reishi out of the air and into the slowly forming quiver across his back. Kaito was being sure not to let Ishida see it, so the other didn't realize what was going on, and the added concentration that Kaito needed to spend to keep it all contained was a benefit to him.

Below him, Ishida stumbled, fumbled for the reishi that had suddenly slipped from his grasp again, then firmed up his resolve and grabbed at it. The return attack was weaker, only three arrows instead of six, but the arrows were stable and perhaps a bit more sturdily formed than the previous barrage.

Kaito smirked, deconstructed Ishida's attack before it reached him, pulled in a bit more reishi from the air around him, and let loose a barrage that had Ishida racing for cover. The teen's steps were enhanced with hirenkyaku, even if each individual platform didn't take him very far. It was incredible the way his past self was adapting and advancing, and Kaito was more than pleased with the progress.

Oh, and also with the way Ishida yelped as Kaito's final arrow slammed into the ground right in front of him, sending the teen spilling into a tumble across the dusty ground. That was priceless.

* * *

Kaito decided to call an end to the day's training when Ishida collapsed and didn't even try to get back up. It had been hours upon hours of relentless work, after all, and Kaito wasn't quite so cruel as to demand Ishida get back up and keep on going. So instead he slung his bow across his back, hopped off his perch, and strolled over to where Ishida was laying in the dust.

"Oh dear, do you need some help?" Kaito asked with Urahara's obnoxiously cheerful tone, even as he extended his hand to the panting, exhausted teen.

"I. Hate. You," Ishida growled, though he didn't reject the offered hand and used it to help him stumble ungracefully to his feet. "How?! How do you _do_ it?"

"Focus—"

"And will, I know, you keep saying that!" Ishida huffed in frustration and ran a hand through his sweat-drenched hair, leaving smears of blood and dirt behind as he did. He was a mess, and yet another of his changes of clothes were good for little more than rags at this point. "But I keep trying and I just _can't_!"

Kaito just smirked at his past self and the teen's frustration, then turned to walk towards the barrier, purposely revealing the quiver of reishi that he had been collecting slowly all day. Ishida's squawk of outraged shock was music to Kaito's ears.

"You— you!"

Kaito laughed, moved through the barrier, and fired off the reishi. "Me indeed. There's only as much reishi inside there as there was when you first walked into it this morning."

Ishida clearly hadn't expected that, and froze before he crossed, turning back to stare at the training area with wide eyes.

"And you can sense it now, can't you?" Kaito spoke cheerfully. "You kept fumbling every time I managed to lower it a bit below your threshold, but you sprung back quite handily each time!"

Ishida made a frustrated, wounded noise, before spinning back towards him and lunging, hands outstretched and fingers clawed. "You bastard!"

"Guilty as charged!" Kaito chirped, while stepping out of the way of Ishida's furious lunge. He kept moving away as the teen dredged up the last remnants of his energy in an admirable attempt to murder him. "Mother and father were certainly not married when I was born!"

"You could have told me!"

"Mou, Ishida-kun, I _did_ tell you about my parents!"

" _Not what I meant!_ " Ishida cried in fury, making yet another lunge at Kaito.

Kaito reached out and casually trapped the exhausted teen's wrists in a strong grip, tugging the other around until Ishida was off-balance and unable to free himself. Ishida struggled for a moment, before giving up and going limp in Kaito's grasp, forcing Kaito to fumble for a moment to catch the other before his dead-weight dragged both of them into a heap on the ground.

"Look," Kaito told Ishida firmly, as he half-carried, half-dragged the other back to the healing spring. "Would you have believed yourself capable of keeping up if I told you what I was going to do before I did it?"

Ishida considered this for a moment, then reluctantly shook his head.

"Exactly. So I let you discover for yourself that you _can_. Now tell me, how does it feel being out here?"

"Like… like I'm swimming in power," Ishida reluctantly admitted. "And… I can sense you? Are you not hiding yourself anymore?"

"I'm holding my reiatsu in just as much as I was inside there. I can't actually pull it in any further; I have far too much power for true stealth at my age."

Ishida frowned in thought, as he settled on the edge of the healing spring and painfully pulled his clothing off. He then slowly slid down into the spring itself, giving a sigh of relief at the warmth and healing that promptly spread through him. "That… doesn't make sense though. I could barely sense you in an area that had less reiatsu than this, but out here I can?"

"You're not actually sensing my reiatsu output," Kaito told the teen firmly. He set the last of his clothing aside and dropped into the water across from the other, letting his eyes slide closed as he relaxed. "There's different types of sensing, and each is useful in different situations."

Sensing that he had caught Ishida's attention even through the teen's exhaustion, Kaito began to explain what he had recently discovered thanks to Yoruichi and Urahara. "The type of sensing _you're_ thinking about, and which almost everyone is capable of as soon as they're aware of the reiatsu of others, is simple reiatsu sensing."

Kaito relaxed his grip on his powers just a bit, allowing his reiatsu to rise and spill around them. He cracked an eye open and watched Ishida, immediately reeling his power back in the moment he saw comprehension flicker across the teen's face. "That sense is very useful, and deserves to be trained up. You can learn a lot about your opponent through their released reiatsu."

"I didn't notice before," Ishida murmured, "But your reiatsu doesn't feel entirely Shinigami."

"No, it doesn't," Kaito agreed with a grimace and a shrug. "Very few will notice, though, and you're likely only noticing it because you know I'm not pure Shinigami and because I have been fighting as a Quincy all day. Father's made me a pendant that obfuscates the Quincy feel of my power, just in case another Shinigami who was sensitive shows up."

Kaito grimaced a bit as he felt Ishida's gaze land on the medallion resting against Kaito's sternum, and raised a hand almost protectively over it before forcing himself to relax again. "Don't spread that around."

"I won't," Ishida agreed solemnly.

"Good. Well, to continue. If you get good enough, you can start to guess at the strengths of a fighter based on the feel of their reiatsu," Kaito continued. "Kuchiki-san's reiatsu, the few times I actually felt it, felt cold. So I suspect her Zanpakutou has some ice powers to it. Of course, not everyone is going to be that easy to notice or deduce."

Ishida nodded thoughtfully, and asked, "And the older they are, the harder it will be to guess, won't it?"

"Exactly. So you can't rely on that to give you information. If it comes, good, if it doesn't, just fight mindfully," Kaito told Ishida. When it seemed that Ishida had absorbed what he was saying, Kaito continued, "Now, the other type of sensing you were picking up on is less about my personal reiatsu and more about how I affect the reishi around me."

"Like ripples in water," Ishida spoke up almost instantly, understanding flaring in his eyes. "That's why I couldn't sense you very well in the training area!"

"Precisely, very good!" Kaito praised the teen, repressing a grin at the sight of Ishida's brief flash of confused happiness. He'd realized _exactly_ how much he liked to hear honest praise when Yoruichi and Urahara had begun to give it, and suspected that the two were using it to bind him closer to them. But even with that knowledge, he couldn't help but _like_ it, and didn't even want to try to ignore it. Those two, and especially his father, had done more for him in the past few weeks than most adults had done in his entire life.

And if he turned that knowledge around and used it on his past self, what was the harm? Especially if it bound the reclusive teen closer to their side, and made him more likely to listen when one of them spoke?

"Just like ripples in water, what you're sensing right now is the 'ripples' that result from my movements through the reishi. You're starting to sense that consciously now because I've been training you in such a reishi poor zone," Kaito continued.

Ishida frowned a bit, and ventured, "So I've been sensing this… unconsciously, then?"

"Yes. No matter what you piece together about high speed combat after the combat is over, most of the action is actually too fast for your eyes to register. Rather, you're taking in information through both reishi and reiatsu sensing, and your brain is interpreting that as vision. Father says that there are a few rare people that interpret it as other things, like sound, or touch, or even _smell_ , but the vast majority seem to default to the sense of sight." Kaito could believe the first two, especially in the case of a blind person, but the idea of registering reishi or reiatsu as a _smell_ just felt like something Urahara had come up with to tease him about. Surely it wasn't true.

"So we think we've seen something, but we've actually just sensed it through the reishi?"

"Correct. Some people never realize what they're actually sensing, and just improve haphazardly because of that." Kaito and Ichigo had both improved that way, scrambling to push themselves higher, better, more capable of standing up to the monsters they kept facing, and never entirely understanding what they were trying to grasp. It had made him so _furious_ when Yoruichi had first explained what she wanted him to do, because _no one_ had ever told him or Ichigo about it. Perhaps there had been no time, or perhaps the _other_ Urahara had simply assumed that Ichigo knew about it, but it had left both of them scrambling in the dark.

"Now, another thing I want to bring up. I want you to be very careful about how you use your powers out here," Kaito told Ishida after a moment to let Ishida digest their previous conversation. "I've been training you on sensing and how to gather reishi no matter how little is around. Take a look at what that's done for you; form your bow and fire an arrow at the barrier above us."

Ishida frowned at him, then did as asked. His bow appeared in a brilliant flash of light, reishi wisps bleeding off of the giant thing, and a huge arrow formed and shot straight up moments later. Ishida stared in surprise at his bow, then carefully released it and shook out his singed fingers.

"And that's why I want you to be careful," Kaito said. "You're still grabbing at the reishi as if there's not much around you, without taking into account the greater density. Until you manage to relearn regulation, you're just going to overpower everything you try."

Ishida took a deep breath, nodded once, and lowered his hands into the healing water. "I understand."

"Good." Kaito rose from the spring and grabbed a towel. "Stay here and relax a bit. I'll get dinner heating up and the table set. And, Ishida-kun? We've still got plenty of time. The three days was just for Kurosaki-san to regain his powers. We'll continue training for several days after that point."

He didn't wait to see Ishida's reaction to that, just moved off back to their camp. Kaito didn't dare hope that Kurosaki was doing better than Ichigo had in regaining his powers, but knew it would still be an anxious several days as the past version of his best friend went through hell, all in the name of a friend.

* * *

 **Well this chapter had been ready and almost edited completely, and then Tales of Berseria came out and I was eaten. Soooo... sorry about that!**

 **Life's been a bit sketchy lately, all things being equal. I still don't have another job to replace the part time thing I had, but at least my right hand is pretty much healed up. It's not a horrible event, seeing as my income wasn't important for our living situation, but it's still something, y'know?**

 **In other news, I've got a tumblr up now, if anyone wants to take a look. The address is akaluan tumblr com and add periods where appropriate. It's pretty sparse at the moment and I need to edit the layout some =P But I'll be working on that over this next week and try to get something posted at least once a week there. Also! That's where I'll let people know if any more chapters will be late (or early).**

 **Til next time!**


	15. Flowers and Demons

**Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine**

Oh wow, I got this out on time, go me! (I got sick last week, which severely cut into my editing time, but it's cool, I managed it!)

* * *

The outermost barrier went down while they were having dinner on the third night. Kaito set aside his plate and rose to make his way towards the group he sensed. As he left, he gesture absently for Ishida to remain and finish his meal, and took the lack of movement as acceptance.

He'd pushed both of them almost cruelly during this final day. The training area was nearly void of reishi, and Ishida's own reserves had been depleted to near exhaustion by the struggle to continue fighting. Even he was feeling the results; not only had he needed to split his attention between fighting and containing as much free reishi as possible, but Ishida had grown _canny_ as the day progressed. The teen had turned his own attacks back on him, had learned to be patient and to wait for the best moment to strike, had learned to be _stealthy._

The final few hours had been more of a mind game than the sort of combat that Kaito was used to, but he felt both of them had benefited from it.

Kaito paused in his steps, taking in the group that was waiting for him. His senses had told him that Kurosaki was there, but somehow Kaito had still not believed that the other teen would be standing. "Kurosaki?"

"Mou, Kaito-kun! All four of us come to see you, and it's _Kurosaki-kun_ you react to?" Urahara spoke up, his expression twisted into a playful pout.

Kaito smirked at Urahara and said, "Because I expected him to be flat on his back by now, just like Ishida-san."

Kurosaki frowned at him. "You better not have—"

"Maa, maa, relax Kurosaki-san," Kaito told the teen with a placating gesture and a grin. "Your face will still like that if you keep scowling! Or maybe it already has, hmm…"

" _Kaito._ " Kurosaki growled at him, one hand resting on the hilt of his giant cleaver of a blade, and took a threatening step forward.

"Now, now, what have I said about your alpha posturing?" Kaito asked airily, before laughing and hopping a step backward to escape Kurosaki's lunge. He casually tripped the teen and pinned him to the floor with a foot. "You're in no condition to challenge me. Ishida-san is _just fine_ , though probably cursing my birth and all my ancestors at this point."

"And anyone even tangentially related to you," Ishida agreed. His approach was slow and measured in an attempt to conceal his exhaustion, but it didn't help much.

Kaito repressed a grin at Ishida's words, amused by the irony in Ishida's words. "But you've learned quite a bit, haven't you?"

Ishida glowered at him, then stared down at Kurosaki who was struggling weakly against Kaito's hold, then back at Kaito. "I take it our training is over?"

"This stage of it, yes," Kaito confirmed as he finally allowed Kurosaki to rise from the ground. He took a step back, closer to Urahara's side, and only then noticed that Tsukabishi had wandered off, likely to go clean up their camp. "We'll take the evening and half of tomorrow off. Return here in the afternoon, and we'll start getting your abilities back under control."

Ishida nodded firmly, then grabbed Kurosaki by the arm and proceeded to drag the other teen off, back towards the exit to the training ground.

Kaito watched the two leave for a moment, then turned back to Urahara and Yoruichi once the teens left his sight range.

"Well?" Urahara asked. Even Yoruchi was leaning a bit forward from her perch on Urahara's shoulder, whiskers extended forward and ears rotated to face him. Her curiosity couldn't have been more blatant if she had hung a sign above her head.

Kaito shot his shunpo teacher an amused look, then glanced up at the fall of the shimmering barrier and the sudden inrush of reishi as the local levels stabilized. It took him a moment to find the right words, but the two seemed willing to wait. "He's stronger now. I doubt he's realized it, but his attacks are more cohesive, his movements are faster, and his ability to react has improved. He's also begun to think more tactically about combat, instead of just rushing in to win. I don't know if it will be enough, but it's something."

"Sounds like you've given him a real workout," Yoruichi commented with a feline smirk, posture relaxing now that she had her information. "What do you intend to do next?"

"High reishi environment," Kaito said firmly, with a glance over at Tsukabishi as the man returned to them. "If you could put up the inner barrier again tomorrow morning?"

"Of course, it's no problem at all."

"Do you plan to lock yourselves in again?" Urahara asked, tapping his chin with his fan thoughtfully.

Kaito shook his head. "No, unless you need to train Kurosaki nonstop during these next two weeks?"

"No, no we should be fine quitting every evening this time." Urahara paused, giving Kaito a considering look, then said, "But I know that can't be your only plan."

"Yoruichi-sensei, could you find Sado and Inoue and see if they want to follow Kurosaki like the did for mine?" Kaito asked his shunpo teacher. "I think they knew who to search out last time because of my challenge, but I stopped Ishida from doing that this time."

"Didn't you promise not to drag them into this?" Urahara asked with amusement, fan out and covering his lower face.

Kaito shrugged and gave Urahara a bright smile. "But I'm _not_. I'm just asking my teacher to check up on those two, to make sure they're well and not worrying about Kurosaki. Whether or not they demand training is up to them, after all!"

Urahara laughed, bright and cheerful and somehow proud all at once. Kaito tried to ignore the way it made him feel, the way his insides twisted up and went warm, and focused on Yoruichi instead.

"I approve," Yoruichi said smugly, while thumping her tail against Urahara's head in an attempt to get him to stop laughing. "And I'll do so. Do you have any plans for if they do ask?"

"Yes," Kaito said. He had thought long and hard about how to awaken those two properly without endangering the entire town, and he and Ichigo had eventually decided upon a plan. It wasn't a plan that either of them particularly _liked_ , but it was one they felt had a chance at success. "It's… not a kind plan, but…"

Urahara gave him a long look, and said, "The best plans rarely are."

Kaito nodded shallowly at Urahara's words, then focused on Yoruici again. It all depended upon her willingness to involve herself. He wasn't sure how he would get around his promise if she decided it wasn't worth her time, but he knew he couldn't pressure her.

She huffed softly, whiskers twitching, and said, "Oh, very well. I'll fetch them, and even help you train them. Do you know what they need help in most?"

"Sado needs speed," Kaito immediately answered. "Right now, he'll only fight in defense of others, or for Kurosaki, but to do that he needs speed. And Inoue… I could wish her to gain the ability to attack, but I doubt she ever will."

"Some people never can," Urahara told him solemnly. "The only thing you can do in that case is to protect them as best you can."

Kaito clenched his hands, took a shaky breath, and nodded at Urahara's words. He couldn't 'fix' everything, and he needed to remember that. "I know. I want her to practice healing and shielding others while in combat. At least then she won't feel quite so useless."

"Sounds like a plan," Yoruichi told him. "I'll head out to hunt down those two and see what they say. If they agree, I'll bring them here in the morning, and we can get started trying to awaken them."

"Thank you, sensei," Kaito told Yoruichi gratefully. With Yoruichi on board, his plan could proceed immediately instead of having to wait for another opportunity to arise. Now he just needed to whip three teens into some semblance of capable in about two weeks.

Well, last time, Yoruichi had done it by herself, so surely this wouldn't be too difficult.

* * *

Kaito stood in the center of the rebuilt barrier, flaring his reiatsu as high as he could and pouring power into the air around him. He was trying to saturate the air inside the barrier, trying to drive the concentration higher than the ambient levels in Karakura, especially in areas where Kurosaki spent much of his time. Sado and Inoue needed to be exposed to as much reishi as possible, as quickly as possible. They were already adapted to Karakura's ambient levels, and now it was time to drive them higher. With luck, they would awaken just from that shock.

Kaito wasn't really expecting that luck.

"Kaito-kun!" Yoruichi's voice carried to him from the edge of the barrier closest to the ladder. "Delivery for you!"

Kaito gave a short chuckle at Yoruichi's words, then used a burst of shunpo to cross the distance between them. She was sitting atop a boulder just outside of the barrier, and to one side of her stood Sado and Inoue. Inoue was poking her fingers together, restless and in awe of her surroundings. Behind her, Sado was standing stoically, though Kaito could read the shock in Sado's tight stance.

"Kaito-kun!" Inoue cried in happiness as she lunged towards him. Her expression shifted into joy at the sight of him, and Kaito felt dread begin to pool in his stomach.

Before she could cross the barrier, however, Kaito darted forward to catch her. The clinging hug was thankfully brief, but no less awkward for that fact. "Watch it. I don't want you crossing that barrier just yet."

"Alright!" Inoue chirped, completely undeterred by his words or his expression. "Oh, you're looking good! I was worried about you! We haven't seen you around in _forever_ it seems, and you didn't seem very happy during that picnic we had, so I was really worried that we'd angered you and you'd just left and—"

"Inoue-san, please breathe," Kaito reminded her gently in an attempt to head off her rambling words. "I've been busy."

"You know what Ichigo's getting into," Sado broke in, his gaze focused on Kaito. "And how we can help him."

Kaito inclined his head. "Yes. Kurosaki-san intends to invade Seireitei, the home of the Shinigami, and rescue Kuchiki Rukia."

"Oh!" Inoue sighed heavily and pressed her hands to her chest. "That sounds so _romantic!_ "

"It's not," Kaito spoke sharply, glowering down at Inoue first before turning that glower on Sado before Inoue's pout could soften his resolve. "Kurosaki is invading a _military society_ , where the members may live for centuries. The only thing we outclass them in is resolve, and if you approach this thinking it a game, or a lark, or a romance where the 'good guys' are guaranteed to win… I want you to turn around right now and not look back."

He knew very well the results of approaching the coming events like a game, and he never wanted to face that again. Nor did he want these others, these innocent versions of his broken nakama, to know the pain he had gone through. This was the first act of a war, even if — as Kurosaki-sensei had said — it was a war where the armies were single beings. People still died, still became gravely wounded, still lost limbs and loved ones and their will to live.

Kaito absently clenched his left hand, trying to banish the searing line of remembered pain that scored across the limb.

No. He did not want to see Inoue shatter. Not again.

Apparently something in his words got through to her, because she sighed and nodded. Sado was less obvious in his acceptance, but Kaito remembered the other teen taking things remarkably well, whatever was thrown at him.

"I think I understand," Inoue whispered, before she shook her head and stood straight. "I still won't let him go on his own, right Chad?"

"Yes."

Kaito looked between the two for a moment, judging their resolve, before accepting it. "Very well. In that case… in the two of you go!"

Using surprise to his advantage, he grabbed first Inoue and then Sado, tossing them through the barrier and into the reishi rich zone within. Yoruichi leapt onto his shoulder right before he crossed the barrier himself, and he shot her an exasperated look.

"This morning, we're going to be working on awakening your power," Kaito informed the two. "The fact that you can see me already tells me that you're incredibly close already."

"Why shouldn't we be able to see you?" Inoue asked curiously, as she slowly pushed herself up. Beads of sweat were already starting to form across her forehead due to the reishi saturation, but she kept slowly rising.

"Because I'm not alive the same way you are," Kaito informed her bluntly. "I'm a spirit, and currently I'm outside of my gigai. If I walked out of this store and onto the streets of Karakura, not a single person would be able to see me."

He could see Sado considering his words, while Inoue just blinked at him in surprise.

Her smile, when it came, was as blindingly bright and cheerful as always, and her words even more-so. "That must be wonderful for pranks! Oh, just think of all the things you could get away with!"

Kaito rolled his eyes. Of course she would focus on some cheerful aspect of him being a soul instead of a living human. Still, he couldn't allow himself to be distracted. They had managed to stand at last, and seemed to be adapting to the weight in the air, but their powers hadn't really progressed any further towards awakening.

He had expected that. Passive weight wouldn't do anything but enhance their tolerance. But their tolerance still needed to be expanded, so he stopped holding himself back quite as much.

His reiatsu slammed through the air, a heavy weight that drove the two once more to the ground and startled a cry from Inoue's through as she fell.

"Stand up," Kaito ordered the two firmly, as he stared down at them with a hooded gaze. This was only the beginning, and already he could feel his stomach souring at the sight of Inoue giving little panting cries and Sado clenching his jaw and trying to push himself up with trembling arms. "Stand up. Or do you want to fail? To be a liability? Because that's what you are right now. Any Captain, and nearly any Lieutenant, could do this to you without a single thought. Just by unsheathing their blade they could drive you to the ground, use you against Kurosaki, force him to pick between you and Kuchiki Rukia."

"I am not a liability!" Inoue nearly screamed at him, as she forced herself to her knees, forced her head up, _glared_ at him with all her resolve and fury at his words. At her side, Sado grunted in agreement and shakily climbed to his feet, though he remained swaying under the force of Kaito's reiatsu.

"Then prove it," Kaito told her harshly, as he unleashed more of his reiatsu to drive both of them back to the ground in shaking, shivering piles. "Because right now, that's all I see. Just two little children thinking they can stand up to people centuries older than them and failing miserably. Two. Little. Liabilities."

Yoruichi pressed against his neck, a comforting presence to ward off the rising horror of what he was forcing upon the two in front of him. Once, perhaps, he could have done this without question, knowing it was the expedient path, but now it was all he could do to harden his resolve and carry on. In his mind, Ichigo remained silent and watchful, his own sickness at Kaito's actions adding to Kaito's own pain, but trying his best to support the decision they had made together. A decision they had made without knowing the sheer pain it would bring to their friends. A decision neither could find a way around.

"I. Am. _**Not!**_ " Inoue screamed, as she forced herself to her feet, then fell back to her knees. She gave a soft sob of pain, then struggled back up a second later.

"I will follow Ichigo wherever he goes," Sado announced firmly. He was slowly, slowly rising to his full height, limbs trembling and hair flattened to his head by sweat, but still rising. "We promised to always watch each other's backs."

Kaito looked between the two, watching as their will rose to adapt to the weight of his reiatsu. Inwardly, he braced himself for what he was about to do next.

(*It's the fastest way,*) Ichigo spoke, his voice resigned and tinged with sickness despite his resolve remaining steady. (*It's best they get used to feeling intent before we invade, and last time they accessed their powers because they needed it badly enough. So unless you want to endanger the city again…?*)

Kaito grimaced at Ichigo's reminder. He had brought this upon himself by stopping that ridiculous challenge, and he refused to allow these two to remain untrained. He could have asked Urahara for advice on how to awaken them, but these were _his_ nakama, and Urahara hadn't said anything against this plan. The idea that Urahara _didn_ _'t know_ what he was planning wasn't even worth considering; the man could read him like an open book, much as it frustrated Kaito at times.

Shaking off his hesitation, Kaito reached inside of himself and drew upon Shiro's bloodlust. It flooded through his reiatsu, tinging the very air around him in blood red power, and filled the zone with a killing intent that brought the taste of bile to the back of his throat.

Sado stood firm in the face of it, and almost seemed to take strength from the shift in intent. His limbs firmed, his back straightened, and he stepped forward to partially block Inoue from Kaito's presence.

Inoue, on the other hand, was doubled over, tears staining her cheeks and arms trembling as she reached out to grip one of Sado's hands in a desperate hold.

"This is what you will face," Kaito reminded her harshly, taking a single step towards them that the two humans mirrored by stepping back. The longer he drew upon Shiro's nature, the more he felt his stance and expression changing to match the Hollow's typical appearance, wild grin and languid danger and all. That, more than anything, seemed to terrify her more than anything, based on the way she was staring at him like a rabbit before a wolf. "Men and women trained to hunt and kill monsters from your nightmares. Monsters that won't just kill them, but will _devour_ them. Monsters that will make sure that their souls are _never reborn_ until someone manages to finally purify the monster that ate them. That you have human faces, human bodies, will mitigate that trained reaction, but it will not change who and what they are."

On his shoulder, Yoruichi pressed against his neck more firmly, purring just enough for him to feel the vibrations through his skin. It helped. Barely.

"If you don't think you can handle this, leave!" Kaito ordered Inoue fiercely. He had no worries about Sado, not after what Ichigo had told him about the other teen. Not after what he had seen in the unmade future. Sado would do anything for Ichigo, even walk into the heart of the monster's lair; what Kaito was putting the other teen through would just give him that final edge against the foes they would combat.

No, it was Inoue he was terrified for. Precious, loving Inoue who tried to always see the best in everyone and who went willingly to her captivity once before. Never again, he swore. He would not see this version of her know that pain and isolation, because he would deal with Aizen long before the man set his sights upon her.

"I won't!" Inoue shouted back at him, though she kept behind Sado and had a death-grip on the other teen's hand. "I won't leave! I'm going to do this for Kurosaki-kun! And Rukia-chan!"

"Then stand on your own!" Kaito roared. He held out a hand to his side and materialized Ichigo's blade in a silent threat. "Because there is no guarantee that you will have someone to hide behind!"

He could see the struggle that waged in her heart as she slowly released Sado's hand, her own visibly trembling as she took a single step out from behind the gentle giant. Her limbs were trembling, her eyes terrified, but her chin was firm and her spine rigid with the resolve she was drawing upon.

Kaito stared at her with cold eyes and Shiro's cruel grin, making her gulp and wince back a bit before she firmed her resolve once more and stood fast. Finally, he nodded once. "That will do for now."

The two breathed a sigh of relief as he allowed Shiro's bloodlust to fade away from his reiatsu, leaving them standing under the passive weight of his projected power. It felt strange to allow his power to flow so freely; even when he had first merged with Ichigo he had done his best to rein everything in. Nearly two-thirds of his strength was currently free, shifting and stretching in a way he had never before allowed it to. It felt almost like he could finally breathe after months of holding his breath.

"What now?" Sado asked, as he eyed the blade that Kaito had materialized and was currently holding loosely at his side.

"That depends upon you," Kaito told the teen. "The best way to draw out your inner power, at least for the first time, is to put you into danger; in this case, for me to attack you."

Sado considered him, gaze shielded and body still, before he finally gave a slow nod of acceptance. "I won't be of any use to Ichigo unless we do this."

Kaito nodded grimly, having expected that answer, then took a firmer grip on his blade and lunged across the space between them. Inoue gave a small shriek, scrambling out of his path, and Sado moved to stay between the two of them. Yoruichi hunkered down against his neck, and her claws sank deep into his shoulder, blazing pinpricks of pain that anchored him against the unreality of the moment.

"I won't go easy on you just because you have no weapon," Kaito reminded Sado darkly, even as his blade sank into the muscle along Sado's side. It was like watching a horror movie, as he pulled his blade free and flicked it to send bright ruby droplets scattering. Surely that wasn't _his_ hand, _his_ blade to inflict that wound.

Sado grunted, nodded once, and attempted to retaliate. His first strike slid harmlessly by Kaito, his second impacted against Kaito's sword, and his attempt at a kick was easily swept aside.

( _*I_ _'m going to be sick,*_ ) Kaito dispassionately informed Ichigo, as he hurled Sado aside with an absent kick and launched himself straight for Inoue. Only the pain of Yoruichi's claws connected him to the moment, to the actions he was making. It was like he was just a passenger in his own body, manipulated by some malevolent force to attack those he cared about.

His three spirits remained quiet within him, trying to lend support but just as sickened as he was. Even Shiro's bloodlust was muted under the weight of his actions. There was nothing enjoyable about this. This was abuse. Abuse of Sado's loyalty. Abuse of Inoue's love. Abuse of their trust. Even if they had agreed, the gap between them was just too great, his power too overwhelming. These two were _defenseless_ and _at his mercy_ , and he was purposely aiming to do harm.

No one could possibly find him innocent, not with the blood of his once-nakama staining his blade.

Inoue brought her arms up in a futile gesture. She took a stumbling step back. Stared up at him with tearful, terrified eyes.

Kaito hardened his heart. He could be sick later. When everyone was safe. Powerful. Protected.

( _Hating him forever._ )

Yoruichi pressed against his neck. Dug her claws deeper. Purred so low it was less a sound and more a _feeling_ , a whisper of comfort against the bile that crawled up his throat and burned his mouth.

A hurled boulder made Kaito pause. His blade flashed upwards, shattering it into thousands of jagged shards. To the side, Sado hefted another, face set and gaze hard.

At least Sado was as adaptable as Kaito recalled.

With a final blank glance at Inoue's terrified mien, Kaito turned and bolted back towards Sado. He could deal with her later.

It wasn't like she would attack him while his back was turned.

( _That was what he deserved._ )

Kaito drove Sado across the training field in a circle around Inoue, making sure to keep her within sight. He wanted her to see this, to see Sado being beaten within an inch of his life, to _react_ to that knowledge and awaken. Already he could feel her reiatsu flaring every time he drew another line of blood across Sado's body. Could feel it rippling in anguish as he drove the point of his blade through Sado's left shoulder and left Sado favoring it.

"Are you just going to take this?" Kaito asked darkly, tone dangerous and reflecting none of the inner hatred that was building. "Are you going to allow me to dismantle you limb by limb, to bleed you to death? You have strength in you, you're just refusing to draw upon it."

His words sparked against Sado's building frustration, and Kaito nearly laughed in sick glee as his next strike was blocked by a familiar armored arm. His blade still sliced through part of the armor, leaving another thin train of blood wending down Sado's arm, but it was a start.

"Very good," Kaito praised with bared teeth. "Now let's see how well you fight with it."

He drove Sado back. Forced the other teen to struggle against him even more. The wounds he left were larger, bled more, staggered the massive teen out of any stable stance he tried to take. He _needed_ to awaken Inoue's powers, and he could tell she was _right on the edge_.

Finally, desperate to push her over, Kaito took a dangerous gamble. Sado was beginning to falter from bloodloss, reacting slower and taking more damage because of it. He needed to end this, to awaken Inoue before Sado fell.

So he put his trust in his instincts. Put his trust in his abilities.

Lunged, blade aimed straight at Sado's heart. The sharp tip of his dao pierced straight through Sado's attempt at a block. Emerged out the other side. Continued to slide forward towards the teen's heart.

" _ **No!**_ " Inoue screamed, lunging forward with a hand outstretched. "Sado-kun, no!"

An orange shield flared to life between Kaito's blade and Sado's chest, just in time to stop his attack.

(*She did it,*) Ichigo said with relief. His voice, his very being, was wrung out from the stress. From the relief.

( _*She_ _'s going to hate us.*_ ) Kaito carefully withdrew his dao from Sado's arm and flicked it to the side, scattering ruby droplets of blood across the already stained ground.

Once freed of his blade, Sado slumped to the ground and tried to catch his breath. His armor faded away, leaving him looking even more battered and defeated than before.

(*She'll understand… I think,*) Ichigo murmured.

"Congratulations, you have both awoken your powers," Kaito told them with a small nod. He slung his dao across his back and let it settle into its place, in order to make him look a bit less threatening.

"Why did you do that?!" Inoue cried, as she hurried across the distance between them and knelt at Sado's side. She hovered anxiously, clearly trying to decide what to do for the other teen. "You could have killed him!"

"I could sense that you were on the verge of awakening your powers," Kaito told her firmly. "I apologize for the terror I must have caused, but you needed one final push to reach that state."

"Was… was he in any danger?"

Kaito nodded grimly at her. He refused to lie, to pretty up what he had done, even if it made her hate him all the more. "There is _always_ danger in combat, you must remember that. When live blades are involved, all it takes is a momentary loss of control to cause permanent harm. In this instance, however, I retained control even to the very last. I was about to pull back right as you reacted."

She stared at him for a long, hard moment, and Kaito grimaced internally at the wariness and fear lingering in her gaze. He had likely burned that bridge to the ground with his actions here today, but if it kept her from _breaking_ like her past-future self had… he would do it again. And again, and again, and again.

"Can you heal him?" Inoue finally asked, as she turned away and back to Sado.

"No," Kaito replied. "I haven't yet learned healing kido. Perhaps your own skills will permit you to do so?"

She glanced back at him for a moment, eyes narrowed and thoughtful. "Do you know what I can do?"

"I can guess." Kaito settled onto one of the remaining boulders, watching the two teens with a dispassion that was entirely faked. He reached up to scratch Yoruichi behind the ears, a silent gesture of thanks for remaining at his side. "Your powers have a feeling of protection and defense, and very few people can create barriers away from themselves at will as you did. So perhaps it extends to healing as well. Look within yourself, remember how you felt in that moment when you summoned that barrier, and try to draw it forth once more."

If she couldn't summon her healing fairies in time, Kaito would shunpo away to collect Tsukabishi. He wouldn't allow Sado to die of the injuries he had inflicted.

"Rrrrr…" Inoue growled, her face screwed up in concentration as she tried to summon up her powers once more.

Kaito watched her hairpins, gaze focused and senses poised. A flicker, a ripple, and then…

Her hairpins shone brightly, and in a flash of light her six fairies appeared.

"Ah!" Inoue startled back, staring at the little beings with wide eyes and the smallest trace of a smile as she took them in. "Hello! Uhm… who are you?"

"We're Shun Shun Rikka, the Six Flowers of the Hibiscus Shield. We're your power, and our job is to protect you!" one of the little spirits declared, as they all floated in the air in front of Inoue.

"Could you heal him, then?" Inoue asked shyly, gesturing towards Sado.

"We can!" the talkative spirit with the topknot agreed with a cheerful smile. "Ayame and I reject destruction in the area under our shield, which means we can reverse any damage done to the person we cover. Now, say our names, and repeat this kotodama; Shunō, Ayame, Sōten Kisshun, I reject!"

"Shunō, Ayame, Sōten Kisshun, I reject!" Inoue repeated, directing the two little spirits to Sado. A golden barrier flickered into existence around the other teen, and Kaito could see Sado's wounds beginning to be slowly unmade. He had forgotten exactly how slow she was with that skill in the beginning.

"Focus," he chided her gently. "Your will is what drives your abilities. Your partners have told you that you can heal him, now _believe_ that you can and push all your will, all your desire to see him whole once more, into your powers."

She didn't answer him, but he could see Sado's wounds closing faster. She seemed to gain confidence from that, and the healing came faster and faster. Soon, Sado was completely healed, and Inoue sat back on her heals, panting slightly from the exertion. Four of the six spirits flitted around Inoue, while two — one of which Kaito recognized as Shunō — landed on her shoulder and began to speak quietly with her.

Kaito allowed it. Allowed her to speak with her spirits and learn from them. He could do little to help her with that beyond awakening them and reminding her that her belief in herself made them stronger.

He stood from his seat and held back a grimace as both Sado and Inoue immediately focused on him with wary gazes. Instead of approaching them, he turned away. Away from Inoue's fear and Sado's watchfulness. Away from the bloodstained ground.

"Calling up your powers will become easier the more you do it," he informed both of them. "Ishida-san will be here this afternoon to resume training with me. If you wish to continue your own training, you are welcome to join us. Either way, I invite both of you to have lunch with my father and the other members of the shoten; you have both expended a great deal of energy, and a meal will serve to make you feel better."

Without waiting for a response, Kaito left.

He couldn't take any more of their attention just now.

* * *

Kaito sipped at his tea, listening to the cheerful conversation going on around the table and otherwise ignoring everyone. Inoue and Sado had eventually come up from the training ground to join them for lunch, and Inoue and Urahara were deep in a discussion about some TV show or another. He couldn't tell if they were arguing about it or agreeing on it, and a glance at Ururu and Jinta showed that neither of them knew either.

Yoruichi had yet to leave his shoulders. In fact, she had sprawled out like some sort of neck warmer, and had demanded that he feed her morsels of fish by hand. Knowing there was little point in arguing, Kaito had given in without a fuss.

Besides, her warmth was still helping to ground him in the now.

"What the hell are you two doing here?! What the fuck, Kaito! You told me you'd leave them out of this!" Kurosaki shouted the moment he stepped into the room and spotted Inoue and Sado sitting at the table with them.

Kaito tilted his head, pulling on his best Urahara-mask in order to smile brightly at Kurosaki. "Whoever said _I_ had anything to do with them being here? _They_ agreed to come train of their own free will."

"W-we did!" Inoue stammered out, as she glanced shyly up at Kurosaki, then firmed her chin and raised her head proudly. "We care about Rukia-chan, too, you know! We want to help save her!"

"Chad, even you too?!"

Sado nodded firmly, then indicated Yoruichi with a tilt of his head. "We asked the cat."

"You… asked the cat?" Kurosaki's anger dissipated in the face of what he clearly felt was an absurdity, and he turned back to Kaito and Yoruichi. "The hell does he mean by that?"

"He means he asked me," Yoruichi replied casually, then yawned in Kurosaki's stunned face and did a small stretch before draping herself more thoroughly across Kaito's shoulders. "Better close your mouth, or a spider will build a nest in there."

Kaito smirked when Kurosaki snapped his mouth closed on reflex, though the teen did continue to stare in surprise at the talking cat. He probably shouldn't find it as funny as he did — especially since his first time meeting Yoruichi-sensei in the original timeline had been almost as shocking for him — but Kurosaki's dumbfounded look was incredible.

So Kaito turned his attention away, focusing on Ishida who was hovering in the doorway and trying to look like he _wasn_ _'t_ hovering. "Good afternoon, Ishida-kun."

Ishida reluctantly entered the room and glanced between the two extra teens before looking back at Kaito. "Are we still training?"

"Yes," Kaito told Ishida with a nod. "Inoue-san and Sado-san will be joining us in order to train their own abilities and strengths, but I intend to drive you into the ground again."

Ishida grimaced and winced a bit, but nodded his acceptance. Clearly he had an idea of what to expect this time, but there was no reluctance that Kaito could see. Good. He wasn't about to allow his past self to slack off, not after all the effort he'd gone through so far to change the teen's fate.

"Well! Now that our missing two members have arrived, let's be off!" Urahara spoke up. He rose and beckoned for Kurosaki to follow him back into the shop proper, "Come along, Kurosaki-kun, it's time we get some practice in."

With a final, narrowed-eyed look at Kaito, Kurosaki turned on his heel and stalked out of the kitchen after Urahara.

"Hmmm, I do believe he'll honestly try to hurt me next time we spar," Kaito mused aloud. He shook his head, rose, and turned a calculating look on the three teens he'd been entrusted the training of. He hoped he would prove worthy of the task, worthy of keeping these three alive, and whole, and _capable_ despite the troubles they were about to face.

Inoue stared up at him, surprised and still a bit wary, and asked, "Why would he do that?"

Kaito grinned at her, surprisingly reluctant to tell her how much Kurosaki had wanted to keep her out of things. "Oh, it's nothing important, don't worry your head about it."

Ishida seemed to have other opinions on the subject, however, and snorted. "Kurosaki specifically told Urahara that you two weren't to be brought in on this."

( _*Well, that went over well,*_ ) Kaito told Ichigo with amusement, as both Inoue and Sado's reiatsu signatures twisted and flared, annoyance and frustration clear to those who could read it. ( _*Still, maybe this will be a good thing. I wonder, if Inoue pouts at your past self enough, will he stop trying to coddle them?*_ )

(*I… coddled them?*)

( _*We both did,*_ ) Kaito answered, as he led the three back down the ladder and into the training ground. In the distance, Kurosaki's reiatsu was already blazing high, as he struggled against Urahara. ( _*How often did we allow them to get into combat?*_ )

(*But they weren't strong enough to face most of our foes!*)

( _*Exactly.*_ ) Kaito chivvied his three students towards the shimmering barrier, not letting them do more than glance back at Kurosaki's combat. ( _*Both of us, but mostly you, faced enemy after enemy, even when we couldn_ _'t win. But those two… we tended to intervene if we could, didn't we? How do you think that affected their growth?*_ )

He could tell that Ichigo understood what he was getting at, even though his friend didn't like it. That was alright. He didn't like it either.

(Sado wanted to protect and Inoue hated to cause pain. They didn't belong on a battlefield.)

"Ishida-kun," Kaito spoke up right outside the barrier. When the teen turned to give him a suspicious look, Kaito nodded towards the enclosed space. "In there is the opposite of what you last experienced. I want you to stand to one side with Inoue-san and just practice channeling and firing reishi, until you aren't burning yourself anymore. Inoue-san, practice your healing on Ishida-san whenever he needs it, and see if you can use your barrier to defend against his strikes. Sado-san, you're with me until Ishida-kun is less likely to permanently injure all us by accident."

Ishida was clearly considering his orders for a moment, before giving a slow nod and turning to walk through the barrier. The teen froze for a moment once clear of it, adapting to level of saturation, then moved off to the side and slightly deeper in.

"Come along," Kaito told Sado, as they both crossed into the zone. "We need to get as much practice for you as possible."

Sado shot a glance over at Ishida, who was already struggling to contain a bow much too large, then nodded once and bolted off deeper into the zone.

Kaito took a deep breath, forcing to to be steady, and reached up to scratch Yoruichi's ears again. "Are you staying with me?"

"It will be good practice for you," Yoruichic replied with a sniff. Her tail draped down his front, the tip twitching from side to side, and her claws were already pricking at his skin. "Besides, I'm comfortable here."

"That won't be a comfortable perch soon enough," Kaito replied dryly. He pulled Ichigo's blade from his back and gave it a few experimental swings. Yoruichi had remained on his shoulders all through the morning's combat, but that had been heavily one sided. Once Ishida regained control of his output, Kaito planned on going all out against the Quincy to see how he adapted to fighting with others around.

Yoruichi just made a little sound of amusement and refused to move. Accepting the inevitable, Kaito shook his head and moved off after Sado. It would be a waste of time to attempt to argue with her; she was as stubborn as a true feline and likely to ignore him for laughs. Better to just go along with it and adapt to the handicap.

Besides, her warmth was a comforting bastion, shoring him up to continue on.

He desperately hoped Ishida regained his control quickly.

* * *

Kaito was conscious of nothing but how _horrible_ he felt. All his repressed emotions from the day surging through his mind, replaying each brutal strike and cruel wound like a video stuck on repeat. His stomach churned with sickness, and he had already thrown up everything in it. Now he was merely gagging and spitting up stomach acid every time he started to heave.

A warm hand rested against his back, a point of stability in his twisting world, and wisps of Urahara's reiatsu were coiled tightly around him. Kaito had no idea when the man had arrived, having been lost within his memories at the time, but Urahara's presence was a soothing balm to his raw nerves.

"Here, drink," Urahara murmured once Kaito's latest heaving fit had passed, offering a cup half-full of lukewarm water.

Kaito sat up slowly from where he had slumped down, accepting the cup in shaking hands and ignoring the way Urahara supported it as Kaito brought it to his mouth and sipped slowly. The water sat heavily in his stomach, but for the moment it seemed like it would remain there instead of coming right back up again.

"I won't like to you and tell you that was the only way," Urahara told him gently. He tugged Kaito towards him, until Kaito was leaning against his chest, head down and tucked under Urahara's chin in an unconscious attempt at gaining comfort. "Because we both know better. It was, however, the fastest way. You needed to awaken them as swiftly and completely as possible."

"Inoue hates me," Kaito rasped, before coughing at the way his throat burned. He shifted enough to take another few sips of water, then tried to continue, "Or… maybe fears me. Or both."

"You knew that was a possibility," Urahara reminded him. "But didn't you also tell me that she made friends with her Hollow captor?"

Kaito nodded against Urahara's chest, remembering the way she had cried at Ulquiorra's death, how she had offered to heal him despite the mortal wounds and everything that had happened. Even after Ulquiorra had murdered Ichigo in front of her, she had still reached out to him in sorrow.

"Then I wouldn't worry too much about it. Right now she's in shock at what you're capable of, but if her future self could care for a Hollow, then this version of her will forgive you for what you had to do."

"I still shredded them, especially Sado. I went at them with intent to kill, and I almost _did_ at the end!"

Urahara made a soothing noise and ran his free hand through Kaito's hair. "Did you lie to her?"

"About… what?"

"About being in control until the last," Urahara clarified.

"No," he whispered. "I knew the instant I needed to start drawing back, but…"

"But it was still a gigantic risk, I know." Urahara's reiatsu reached out a bit more, coiled around him a bit more firmly, blinding Kaito's senses to anything but Urahara and himself. A cocoon against the world. "Take strength in the fact that you did not overestimate yourself. Take strength in the fact that they are stronger for the cruelty. And pray that you never need to do such a thing again."

"Because I would," Kaito muttered, dejected and hurt and the realization.

"Better cruelty at your hands, than death from an enemy they are unprepared for," Urahara spoke, his voice low but brutally honest, heavy with the weight of experience.

Kaito sighed and reluctantly nodded. Urahara was right. He would rather be seen as the 'bad guy', as the 'cruel one', than know that he had sent these past versions of his nakama into situations they were woefully unprepared for. And what he had said to Kurosaki a few days ago was also true; Sado and Inoue were poised to awaken at any moment, and were tempting targets for Hollows because of that. Better they awaken in controlled circumstances than rely on luck to get them through.

Silence settled over them, comfortable and _safe_ in a way Kaito had never expected to feel. His father's heartbeat was a steady, reassuring beat in his ear, and it was easy to lose himself in the calming rhythm. It wasn't long before Kaito felt his eyelids beginning to droop close, the haze of exhaustion finally falling over his mind and muting his roiling emotions.

"Feel any better?" Urahara asked, his hand pausing in its motions through Kaito's hair. When Kaito gave a slow, reluctant nod, Urahara unfolded his legs and carefully stood, pulling Kaito up with him. "Then let's get you back to bed. Tomorrow's another big day."

Kaito leaned into his father's powerful grip, allowing the man to steer him through the dark hallway and back to his room. Allowed the man to push him down onto his futon, and didn't even attempt to protest when Urahara even tucked him into bed like a little child who had a night terror.

He didn't even comment when Urahara settled onto the floor next to the futon, one hand returning to comb through Kaito's hair in slow, repetitive motions. Kaito was too tired to comment, too hollowed out and empty and so very, very exhausted, and his father's presence was warmth and protection and everything Kaito had missed and never realized he missed.

Kaito dropped into a dreamless sleep, guarded by a man he had come to trust against all expectation.

* * *

 **So now you see how I decided to get around the issue with Chad and Orihime not awakening thanks to Uryuu's silly hollow challenge not happening. And of course, Kaito now has guilt~**

 **Poor boy. But at least Urahara's there for him!**

 **(Also: I frankly prefer the translation of Shun Shun Rikka that I gave here, because it gives Orihime more agency and makes her out to be less of a helpless damsel)**

 **Depending upon how my muse decides to be, next chapter might involve the start of the invasion of Seireitei. My outline is getting a bit sketchy at this point (ahahahaha...) so we'll see.  
**

 **Ja ne!**


	16. Let the Invasion Begin

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

"I think it's time for a change of pace," Urahara announced on the seventh morning of training. The quiet conversations around the breakfast table almost immediately died, as the other members of the shoten turned their attention to Urahara in curiosity.

Kaito gave Urahara a suspicious look, wondering exactly how the man intended to change the pace, and exactly how much of it would be on him. "A change of pace."

"Mhm!" Urahara covered his lower face with his fan, hiding the grin that was sneaking in. "Our little trainees have gotten used to this pace, haven't they."

Well, if that wasn't ominous, Kaito didn't know what was. But Urahara was also right; it was getting harder to force Ishida, Sado, and Inoue to their limits simply because they were becoming accustomed to him and his tactics. And, perhaps, they were starting to get overconfident because of that, especially Ishida.

"What do you have in mind, then?"

"Why, us against them, of course," Urahara said with his usual sense of dramatic timing, making the four newly arrived teens freeze in their tracks.

"And who would be the 'us'?" Kurosaki asked warily.

Kaito smirked and set his chopsticks down, deciding he was done with his meal. He smiled up at Kurosaki, then directed that smile at the other three teens, and said, "My father and I against the four of you. He's right, after all. Too much training against a single person can limit your growth."

"We'll even give you a few minutes head start, so you can discuss tactics!" Urahara rose from his seat and chivvied the four teens back into the shop proper and then down into the training room, then closed the trapdoor behind them. He turned to look at Kaito, who had followed him, and said, "As for you, I want you in bankai for this."

Kaito frowned, glancing down at the trapdoor then back at Urahara. Unease clawed at his gut at the idea of fighting the others in his released state. "They'll be at enough of a disadvantage fighting the two of us together, but bankai..?"

"You need practice with it," Urahara said. He casually knocked Kaito out of his gigai, then leaned a bit on his cane, fixing Kaito with a serious look. "And they need practice at understanding the difference between a regular Shinigami and a Captain."

He sighed, knowing that Urahara was right but still wary of the damage he could do. The few times he had practiced with his bankai he had been almost overwhelmed by his own speed and strength. He feared being unable to hold back. Feared wounding them too gravely to be saved.

Urahara's hand closed over his shoulder and squeezed lightly. "Remember that I'll be fighting at your side, and trust in me if you can't trust in yourself just yet."

Kaito nodded slowly, a bit of tension releasing at the reminder that Urahara was going to be fighting at his side. Urahara, who was canny and knew him quite well by this point, and who kept him from overstepping as casually as breathing.

Everything would be fine.

He pulled open the trapdoor and descended, landing lightly on the ground at the base of the ladder with Urahara only a few seconds behind him.

Kurosaki and the others were clustered nearby, with Kurosaki and Sado standing side-by-side in front of a small boulder. Inoue was perched atop it, her spirits already out and swirling around her, and Ishida was at her side, bow out and ready to be drawn.

"An interesting starting position," Urahara mused aloud, before he tucked his fan away into his sleeve and drew his own blade. "Very well, since the four of you seem prepared to start! The rules of this game are simple; live. Kaito-kun, if you would?"

Kaito stepped to the side, drawing both his blades and holding them loosely. He could feel the weight of regard from the four teens, and shot them a bright, toothy smile that set all of them on edge.

"Bankai," he declared, voice strong and sure and reflecting none of the inner worry that still lurked in his soul. "Kakure Ichigo."

He no longer needed a release phrase for bankai, not after gaining it properly instead of forcing it through his spirits. It meant, among other things, that the transition was faster, more stable… and that he didn't feel quite so silly.

"Wait, why are you calling _my_ name?" Kurosaki called out, confusion in his voice as the blast of power settled down.

"Your name?" Kaito scoffed and rested the long, black daito over his shoulder and tapped his left leg with the bright white hook sword that Shiro's blade had become. Gravel crunched beneath his boots as he shifted his stance, and the sleeveless haori that had replaced his mantle swayed with his movements. "Someone's egotistical. Kakure Ichigo is the name of my Zanpakutou. You _do_ understand what that means, don't you?"

( _*And you can shush,*_ ) Kaito told Ichigo as his friend snickered at the exchange.

(*It's not egotistical if it's true!*)

Kurosaki's scowl darkened, and a wicked glint appeared in his gaze. He shifted his stance, holding Zangetsu in a ready position and clearly braced for an attack. "So, what, your Zanpakutou's name is 'hidden strawberry'?"

( _*Ichigo_ _…*_ )

(*I really can't blame him, but… yeah, beat him into the ground for me.*)

"Oh dear!" Urahara said with a cheerful laugh. "I think you set him off!"

Kurosaki grunted as he strained against Kaito's strike, trying to keep the daito from cutting him but slowly sliding back under the force being exerted. "Fuck you're fast."

"Shinigami become stronger in bankai," Kaito informed Kurosaki, moments before he lashed out with the hook blade and wrenched Zangetsu away from Ichigo.

He ducked under Sado's strike. Deconstructed the arrows that Ishida sent at him. Launched Kurosaki out of the combat with a brutal kick to the side. The hook of Shiro's blade bit deep into Sado's armored arm and dragged the giant teen off balance. Another brutal kick launched Sado away to almost collide with Kurosaki.

Freed of the two close combat specialists, Kaito blazed forward in a burst of shunpo to interrupt Ishida's attempt at sniping Urahara down.

Ishida was moving before Kaito even reached him, alerted by his senses even if he couldn't quite keep up with what was happening. Kaito's daito ground against Ishida's bow for a moment, before Ishida attempted to leap backwards.

Kaito lashed out. Caught the bow in his hook, and _yanked_. The bow wavered. Flickered. Was snuffed out like a candle in the wind. A heartbeat later it blazed back to life in Ishida's hands, and the Quincy's gaze was hard.

"That won't work," Ishida told Kaito firmly.

"It would have a week ago."

Ishida grunted and darted away in a burst of hirenkyaku. Kaito didn't bother following, already sensing Inoue's shield beginning to form in his path. Instead, he went after _her_ , hook sword swinging, and had to leap and push off of the shield that she called into existence between them. She was getting faster with those, and it made a fierce _joy_ sing in his heart.

Kaito flipped around in midair, his daito transitioning into a solid black recurved bow and Shiro's blade into a jagged arrow. Took aim. Fired.

Ishida was already there, launching an arrow to deflect Kaito's. They sparred, path control versus path control, until Ishida was a breath too slow to react.

"I reject!"

His arrow shattered against Inoue's shield, jagged bolts of power lashing out but hitting nothing. Shiro's blade reappeared in his hand, his bow transitioned back, and Kaito landed on the ground at Urahara's back.

"It's like herding cats," Kaito told Urahara grumpily, while knocking aside Kurosaki's attack.

Urahara laughed as he moved aside, free hand grasping Sado's arm as it skimmed past and twisting to hurl the teen into Kurosaki. "You've trained them well."

Kaito had to agree. Individually, he could take any of the teens, especially in bankai, but like this…

Like this, they each covered for the other. Ishida's hail of arrows gave Kurosaki and Sado time to recover. Inoue's shield prevented an easy attack on that front. And once the two close combat specialists had recovered, they began to tag-team Urahara and him. It was clumsy at first, but they were quickly smoothing their teamwork out.

So long as they remembered to work together, these four had a better chance of survival than Kaito's own nakama ever had.

It was a bittersweet victory.

* * *

Kaito allowed his bankai to fall with a rush of relief. The strain had been building ever since the third hour of combat had passed, and right now all he wanted to do was collapse into bed and sleep for a week. Not that he would, or could, but it was a tempting dream nonetheless.

Still, the four had fought admirably against his father and him. Their teamwork had smoothed out to include Kurosaki within the first hour, and Kaito had high hopes that _this_ version of his best friend would understand the value of fighting alongside others.

Even better, Urahara hadn't needed to rein him in.

"Well, I think I'm impressed," Urahara declared as he fluttered his fan a bit and smiled down at the four exhausted teenagers. "Go take the rest of the afternoon off, and tomorrow too."

The groans of relief amused Kaito, though inwardly he was feeling the same way. Perhaps training until the very last minute just… wasn't feasible this time around. He had done so on his own, with the sanrei glove, and had scoffed at Ichigo when the other told him he had relaxed for the last week. But at this pace, they would all burn out. Even he was starting to feel the effects of the pace he had set, and he was perhaps the most battle-fit of the group if he ignored the adults.

"Oh! Tomorrow is the Fireworks Festival!" Inoue exclaimed with a bit of breathless excitement. "We should all go together!"

Kurosaki snorted and gave a rough shrug as he sat up. "Only if you can put up with Keigo. He caught me yesterday and insisted that we go hang out."

"That should be fine," Inoue agreed with a smile. "I can invite Tatsuki, too! She should be back from her competition soon. Oh, I hope she won! That would be so amazing, wouldn't it?"

Kurosaki made an agreeing noise, but otherwise didn't react to Inoue's raptures over their mutual friend's chances. Instead, he was staring thoughtfully at Kaito.

"Is there something you wanted to ask me?"

"You're coming with us, aren't you," Kurosaki replied, confident enough in his words that they were a statement instead of a question.

Kaito didn't bother to dissemble or feign ignorance. He just nodded his head and waited for Kurosaki to get to his point.

"Is that smart?" the teen asked, eyes narrowed and tone sharp.

Kurosaki's words had drawn the attention of Inoue and Sado, silencing Inoue's cheerful chatter about plans for the next day. The two teens were looking at him in confusion, and Kaito realized with a start that they didn't actually _understand_ how odd it was that Kaito could use both bow and blades.

Just like Kurosaki hadn't.

It wasn't their fault, Kaito knew. It was his own, to put aside telling them in favor of ignoring it. It was another sign of him coddling those two, trying to avoid gifting them with the dangerous knowledge of his nature. But that wouldn't save them if it came down to it. Not with the Shinigami as they currently were.

(*Better to go in with their eyes wide open,*) Ichigo agreed. (*Besides, you can use this to request they call you by personal name.*)

That was a good point. A week would help cement the request in their minds, instead of springing it on them at the last moment.

"I am fully aware of the consequences of my decision," Kaito informed Kurosaki blandly. He glanced over at Urahara for a moment, drawing strength from the man's calm presence, then turned to the two who didn't understand the conversation. "Forgive me for leaving you in the dark on this. I am what is known as a 'hybrid soul', a being descended from more than one of the spiritual races that exist. In my case, I am both a Shinigami and a Quincy."

"Oh! Is that why you have a bow like Ishida-san?" Inoue asked.

Kaito nodded in agreement, pleased that she had caught on so quickly. "Yes. However, hybrids are looked upon poorly by the people who run Seireitei. On top of that, my father was… exiled from Seireitei for reasons unrelated to myself but related to hybrids. So while we're there, I would ask that you not refer to me by my family name. And _never_ speak of my hybrid status to _anyone_."

For one long moment, Inoue's gaze turned piercing, as if she could divine something from him just by staring. But then it was gone, and her cheerful, ditzy smile was back in place. "Of course! My lips are sealed, Kaito-san!"

"Thank you," Kaito told her and Sado, when the other teen had nodded his agreement.

"I take it your mother's name is off limits as well?" Ishida asked with a slight edge to his voice that Kaito recognized as discomfort.

Kaito grimaced and shook his head, knowing that he could never react naturally to any other family name than 'Ishida', which was off limits for obvious reasons. "We never had a last name. People usually forget a lot about their life when they cross over, and sometimes names are lost along with histories."

"If I must," Ishida agreed with a grudging nod of acceptance.

"Oh, this will be so much fun!" Like super secret spy stuff!" Inoue cheered, as she finally pulled herself to her feet and gave him an excited grin. "Or like you're the son of an exiled lord, sneaking back in with your loyal retainers to reclaim your rightful heritage!"

Kaito rolled his eyes and sighed, flicking a pebble at Urahara as the man burst into bright laughter. The pebble was deflected, of course, and Urahara didn't even bother restraining himself. Not that Kaito had expected him to. That was like asking Inoue to be serious all the time; a futile wish that he would be better off giving up on.

"Trust me," he told Inoue with a wry twist to his smile, "My father is the exact opposite of an exiled lord."

Urahara sputtered in protest, jabbing Kaito in the side with his fan. "I might not be a lord, but I'm hardly _that_ low!"

Kaito plucked the fan from Urahara's hand and smiled cheerfully in the face of Urahara's affronted expression. "Friends in high places don't count, father."

"I'll have you know—"

"That you got everywhere on the basis of your own crazy, I know," Kaito spoke over whatever Urahara was trying to say. "But unless there's some secret rule that says children inherit their parent's division…"

"Weeeeeell," Urahara said with a glint in his eyes that put Kaito on edge. "The sixth _is_ traditionally passed down amongst the Kuchiki clan."

Kaito paused for a moment, considering that, then cut his attention over to the four teens who were suppressing their mirth to greater or lesser extents. Inoue's muffled giggles and Kurosaki's snickers were the obvious, but even Sado seemed amused, and Ishida's expression was tinged with a smug smirk that spoke volumes about how much Ishida was enjoying Kaito's difficulties.

"No. I have no desire to be tied to a desk, buried under paperwork," Kaito decided. He bared his teeth at Urahara in a parody of a smile, then leaned away from the man's playful lunge, holding the fan out of reach. He spotted Yoruichi out of the corner of his eye, and made a snap decision. "Yoruichi-sensei!"

"What? No!" Urahara squawked, trying to grab at his fan as Kaito hurled it at Yoruichi, but missing.

Yoruichi leapt into the air, teeth closing around the handle of the paper fan, and she instantly bolted off. Urahara raced after her, shouting about giving it back, and Kaito couldn't help the amusement that bubbled up.

Inoue lost her control and burst out into peels of laughter, followed shortly thereafter by Kurosaki's deeper chuckles. Even Sado was laughing aloud, and Ishida's smirk was larger than before.

"Tch, go on, off with you. Take tomorrow off like father said, but if you want to do some light training in the mornings the rest of the week, come see me," Kaito told the four, as he made a shooing motion, pretending disgruntlement that he didn't actually feel. Amusement aside, it felt so _surreal_ to have been essentially _playing_ with Urahara. No ulterior motive, no underlying judgment, just teasing banter and playful actions. Urahara could have reclaimed his fan at any moment, and yet he had just _let it happen_ , and Kaito didn't really understand what that meant.

Inoue, still giggling, grabbed Sado by the arm and tugged him along, chattering up at the gentle giant as they left. Ishida and Kurosaki, however, remained where they were standing, and Kaito turned a questioning look on them.

"Don't expect me to use your name unless necessary," Ishida told him bluntly, his arms crossed over his chest and a stubborn tilt to his mouth. "Or for this to change anything between us."

"Of course not, Ishida-kun," Kaito told his past self with amusement. Honestly, he hadn't expected otherwise. He'd called his best friend by family name right up until the point of Ichigo's death, and rather expected his past self to remain just as unbending about that for a while longer.

Ishida gave a sharp nod and turned to stride off, though it was marred by the slight limp born of exhaustion and his generally disheveled state.

Kaito watched his past self go, until he was abruptly reminded of Kurosaki's presence by the teen grabbing his upper arm and holding it in a vice-like grip.

"Don't pull a Rukia on me," Kurosaki growled, eyes narrowed and all traces of laughter banished from his expression. "If you get your ass captured because it's 'for the best', I will just break you right back out and then beat some goddamn sense into your thick skull."

"Maa, maa, Kurosaki-kun, I'm not planning on anything of the sort," Kaito told the teen airily, but completely truthfully. The idea of being at the mercy of the Shinigami in this time, before everything had begun to change, was terrifying. "Besides, I'd make a _terrible_ princess, don't you think?"

Kurosaki sputtered and released Kaito's arm almost as if burnt, and Kaito couldn't resist laughing at the other's actions, partially to conceal his own confusion. Kurosaki's touch had brought into sharp relief the threads of _bright-warm-protective_ reiatsu that were woven haphazardly through the edges of Kaito's own reiatsu, and Kaito had _no idea_ when Kurosaki had done that. It left him feeling odd. Odd and unbalanced in a way that wasn't precisely bad, but wasn't entirely familiar.

So he gave one of Urahara's unrepentant grins and buried his confusion deep for later examination.

In his soul, Ichigo laughed.

* * *

The next few days passed in a haze of too-brief spars and restless hours spent in desperate attempts at making the time go by more swiftly.

He begged lessons from Tsukabishi, turning his hand to the basics of kido. Spent hours sewing clothing for himself and those around him. Even allowed himself to be dragged out of the shoten by Inoue, to spend an afternoon in the sun with everyone.

But still anxiety and restlessness had driven him from his bed time after time, and Urahara had taken to keeping a sleeping mat down in the training ground for him. The man hadn't complained even once, just let his reiatsu coil around Kaito like a blanket during the brief moments when Kaito could manage to sleep.

He didn't even remember how late it had been when he had finally fallen asleep last night, only that Urahara had insisted he lay down and try to rest. When he had woken up, it was to Yoruichi napping on his chest and Urahara sprawled out on a second sleeping mat beside him, looking completely unlike himself without his hat or mischievous expression. There were dark smudges under Urahara's eyes, signs of the late nights and earlier mornings the man had gone through to build the senkaimon.

Kaito lifted Yoruichi up and settled her in his lap as he sat up, ignoring the way she cracked open an eye and muttered irritably at him. He gazed blankly at the sleeping man next to him, wondering _why_ Urahara was there instead of in his own bed.

"He didn't want to disturb you," Yoruichi told him softly. "Not when you'd finally gotten to sleep properly. You have a big day ahead of you, and you needed all the sleep you could get."

"But… _why_?" Kaito asked, too confused to care about the plaintive edge to his voice. Ryuuken wouldn't have cared, he was certain. Of course, Ryuuken wouldn't have let him sleep down here while the man was working on something, much less let him use the man's reiatsu as a strange sort of security blanket.

Yoruichi made a mournful little meow, and stretched up to rub her chin against Kaito's before settling back into his lap. "Why wouldn't he? He cares about you."

Kaito turned his gaze from Urahara and onto Yoruichi, trying to understand what she was saying. Urahara… cared about him.

Well of course he did. He'd taken Kaito to task. Taught him how to think, how to stop and plan even when his emotions rebelled and demanded he take action. He was still learning, but Urahara hadn't given up on him or called him a failure. More, Urahara had helped him through nightmares and through the guilt, had inadvertently taught him how to laugh and find enjoyment in things even after… after everything that had happened.

But somehow, it seemed like Yoruichi meant something… more.

If Urahara had woken first, Kaito would have _never known_ it had happened. There was no benefit to that; not like everything else Urahara had done for him. Kaito knew Urahara cared about him because the man made a point of being helpful and caring despite all the teasing and tomfoolery. But even in the caring was an underlying motive; Kaito was no use to Urahara as the broken, shattered shell he had come to the man as, even he understood that.

He could brush this off as more of the same. A well rested weapon was more dangerous than a sleep-deprived one, after all. He _should_ brush this off as more of the same.

"Did he…?"

"Did he what? Sleep down here with you the other nights?" Yoruichi tilted her head, gaze fixed on Kaito. When Kaito nodded in mute agreement, she sighed and answered, "Yes. As I said, he didn't want to disturb you from your rest."

Even Ichigo seemed at a loss, confused and unsure about what to feel. There had been no mention made, no indication of wanting Kaito to be aware of what Urahara was doing. He wanted to brush this off as just another action to bind him closer to Urahara, but a tiny, treacherous part of his soul was whispering ( _but maybe it_ _'s_ _ **real**_ _. Maybe he actually cares, not out of duty but because he_ _ **can**_ _. Maybe this is what a father is supposed to be like._ )

Zangetsu was radiating a strange peaceful sadness that Kaito didn't _understand_ , but which didn't entirely feel like a bad thing. Even Shiro seemed to not sense anything amiss, though the spirit was clearly excited for the day to properly begin.

"Come on," Yoruichi told him firmly, as she hopped from his lap and paced towards the ladder out. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for the day."

With one last confused glance at his sleeping father, Kaito rose and left the training ground. He stumbled through his morning routine and made sure to dress in one of his casual kimono, instead of the ever-present jinbei that Urahara had mostly filled his closet with. He gave his pack one last careful examination to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, then hefted it and left his room.

"Good morning, Kaito-san," Ururu greeted him softly, when he settled down at the table.

He nodded to her and accepted the food she was offering, though he didn't think he could truly eat much. Still, he knew the value of eating while he had the chance, so he slowly worked his way through the food, forcing it down despite his nerves.

Jinta's rambling chatter soon filled the silence, accompanied by Ururu's hesitant interjections and Tsukabishi's firm redirections whenever Jinta started being too rowdy. Kaito let it just wash over him, as he ate and contemplated what the day would bring.

"Good morning, Kaito-kun! Have everything ready?" Urahara asked, as he swooped into the room and ruffled Kaito's hair before he could react.

"Father!" Kaito snapped, broken out of his thoughts by the man's sudden appearance. He batted Urahara's hand away and tried to put his hair back in order as best he could without a mirror. "I've been packed and ready for days at this point, you know this."

"Mou, I'm just trying to be sure!" Urahara pouted at Kaito.

Kaito subsided with a small frown, staring up at Urahara and taking the man's appearance in. He looked more like himself, but the dark smudges remained under his eyes, and there was an edge of forced cheer to his tone and expression.

(*He's worried about us,*) Ichigo said.

( _*Of course he is,*_ ) Kaito answered. ( _*Seireitei is dangerous for us, and if we screw up, we could die and leave Aizen_ _'s defeat on the shoulders of the other Karakura teens.*_ )

Except that didn't quite ring true. It was a truth, but… perhaps not the whole truth.

(But why would Urahara be worried for him otherwise?)

Still, when Urahara offered his hand to help Kaito to his feet, he accepted it with only a pretense of a put upon sigh. Urahara's hand was cool to the touch and suspiciously steady, and the man's fingers tightened just slightly more than necessary before letting go once Kaito was on his feet.

They returned to the training ground and the constructed gate in silence, and Kaito hopped up onto a boulder next to Urahara as they waited for the other four to arrive. He watched the man fidget with something, and wondered at what was driving the other to such distraction.

"Here," Urahara suddenly said, as he turned towards Kaito and held out his hand again, this time closed in a fist around something.

Kaito frowned, catching sight of the glint of silver chain, and slowly reached out to accept whatever it was that Urahara was trying to give him. Body-warmed metal flowed into his palm, followed by the weight of several small charms, and Kaito looked down at it in curiosity.

"As a backup, in case something happens to the pendant you wear around your neck," Urahara explained in a rush, his expression twisted into a parody of his normal cheerful mien. If it had been anyone else, Kaito wouldn't have hesitated to call it _worried_ , but that was ridiculous. Wasn't it?

He shook his unease off and busied himself with examining the offering. Urahara was right; having only one fragile piece of protection between him and discovery wasn't a good idea, especially with the way plans tended to go around him.

There were three little charms hanging from the short chain. An unsheathed sword was the middle, and largest, of the three charms. To the right was a snarling cat's head, and to the left was something that looked a lot like a sunburst. Kaito could feel the power contained within all of them, and just knew that this would shelter him from prying senses more fully than the necklace alone.

(*That's Benihime!*) Ichigo broke in, as they shifted the charms around.

Kaito had to agree. It did look a lot like what he'd seen of Urahara's blade in shikai. Which meant the cat's head represented Yoruichi, and the sunburst was likely Tsukabishi. This was more than just protection, more than just a man attempting to shield his weapon from discovery.

This was a claim.

(*Like Goat-face giving me that amulet before I left,*) Ichigo said after a thoughtful pause. (*It's protection, but it's also…*)

( _*Yeah,*_ ) Kaito agreed. He shifted the gift around in his hand, watching the way the light reflected off the charms and trying to piece together his worldview once more. ( _Family_ ,) that treacherous fragment of soul whispered again, hope and longing and a need he'd never understood before tangled into a knot that threatened to choke him.

"—and it should help mask you a bit more than just the pendant," Urahara was rambling, voice edged with nervousness that Kaito couldn't ignore.

Urahara could be playing him. Using Kaito's emotions to bind a dangerous weapon to his side. This could be an empty gesture, just another in a long line of manipulations to keep Kaito from going rogue.

( _Family._ )

It didn't make sense to alienate a follower. Kindness, Kaito had discovered, was the most effective form of control. Ichigo had done it to him, even if not with the purpose of manipulation. He had still _followed_ , still twisted his promise around in order to come to the aid of those who had been _kind_ to him. He had picked up Ichigo's burden out of loyalty to his friend, loyalty to the person who had shown him kindness, even masked by competition as it was.

( _Trust._ )

Ichigo had trusted him. To protect Inoue. To carry out his burden. Dare he extend that trust to the man who had lied by omission and dissembled and never quite come clean even at the end?

(Who had taken him in and given him a name and a place and a foundation when he had none. Who had explained and taught and admitted his faults and apologized for actions he had not yet committed.)

Kaito took a breath, swallowed back the knot of emotion, and looked up at Urahara again. Urahara, who was still rambling, that nervous smile on his face and the edges of dejection creeping into his gaze the longer Kaito remained silent.

"Urahara… Urahara! Dammit, Father, shut up for one damn moment!" Kaito had to resort to shouting at the nervous man to get his attention. But as soon as he had it, his words failed him. Under Urahara's sharp gaze, in the face of the lurking fear in those grey eyes, Kaito felt like his tongue had tied itself into a knot and refused to unwind. How could he put into words everything the man had started to mean to him, when he didn't understand it all himself?

Giving up on speaking, Kaito just held Urahara's gaze as he very deliberately pulled the chain onto his right wrist, looping it with practiced motions to keep it from slipping back off. He could almost _see_ the moment his actions registered in Urahara's mind, as the nervousness and fear were wiped away by amazement and a softness that left Kaito feeling even more awkward than before.

( _Family_ ,) his treacherous soul whispered happily.

Luckily for his peace of mind, the sound of chatter broke the moment and pulled their attention towards the approaching teens. Kaito hastily pulled his kimono sleeve down, tucking the new gift away from immediate notice. Not out of shame or embarrassment, but out of a selfish desire to keep what had just happened to himself. A moment tucked away in his soul that he could return to whenever he needed.

The four teens looked better than Kaito had ever expected. They moved as a group instead of as individuals, and while there were looks traded between Ishida and Kurosaki, they weren't the sort that he remembered trading during this moment.

And there was something easier about the way Ishida moved that released a tension Kaito was unaware of. Confidence, he might call it, except he had always had confidence. No, this was something more, something better, and he hoped to any higher being out there that might be listening that this change stayed.

Urahara drew all their attention by clapping loudly and announcing, "Okay kiddies! Pay attention please!"

Kaito repressed an almost hysterical laugh at the man's dramatics, still on edge from the realization he'd just had. Even Urahara still seemed affected, his smile just a bit larger and his hat pulled down a bit further than Kaito's vague memories of this moment. Even his finger-snap to summon forth the gate had an extra flare to it.

"All right. This gate, the senkaimon, leads into Soul Society," Urahara spoke, looking between the teens in front of him and not sparing more than a single glance at Kaito. "I've had to modify a normal senkaimon in order to allow all of you to pass through without dying."

Kaito tuned out the explanation, as he tilted his head back to stare up at the massive, paper-covered pillars that outlined the gate itself. He'd heard it all the first time, and this time had even been allowed to help create some of the ketsugō-fu that covered it.

Urahara had taught him so much during their late nights, when Kaito couldn't sleep for the restlessness and Urahara needed to keep working. Some parts of the complex theory had passed right over his head, but Urahara had been patient with him, back-tracking and giving him a better grounding in the science behind it all. Once Urahara had figured out how best to explain things to him, Kaito had found it _fascinating_.

He never thought he'd consider anything to do with Shinigami _fascinating_.

The hard edge of Urahara's fan prodded his side, and Kaito looked down from the gate and arched an eyebrow at his father.

"If you're done marveling at my genius, we're about ready," Urahara teased him gently.

Kaito huffed and hopped down from his seat, straightening out his kimono and making sure everything was in place. He didn't want to experience being trapped in the kōryū a second time. And speaking of which…

"Hey!" Ishida yelped, leaping back the moment Kaito appeared right in front of him. "What are you— give that back!"

Kaito carefully folded Ishida's mantle and held it in one hand, since he'd left his bag sitting on the rock next to Urahara. He gave the teen a dangerous smile that froze the other in the middle of reaching for his backup mantle, then said, "Loose clothing such as that is a danger while passing through the dangai. Father told you that your limbs can become entangled in the current, but that also holds true for _clothing_."

Ishida grit his teeth, but subsided after Kaito shot him another look. Satisfied that he had done what he could to prevent that little near-disaster, Kaito turned back to Urahara. The man was watching them with amusement, holding out Kaito's bag for him to take. With a nod of thanks, Kaito took it and tucked the mantle away in one of the small side pockets, then slung it in place on his back.

Seeing the drama was over and they were ready to go, Urahara chuckled and moved to kneel at one corner while Tsukabishi knelt at the other.

"Are you ready? Run in as soon as it opens," Urahara told them seriously, as he poured power into the gate and started to trigger it.

"Alright," Kurosaki agreed. "Kon, take care of my family!"

Kaito braced himself as the gate powered up. His right hand twisted inward, fingertips brushing against the charms, reminding himself of what he had to return to. Of why he _needed_ to be sure this ended well.

"Here we go!"

The gate flared to life. Kaito bolted the minute it stabilized, Yoruichi on his heels.

"Kaito, wait up!" Kurosaki shouted, as the four teens raced after him, pushed to their limits to keep him within view.

"We have four minutes," he snarled over his shoulder at Kurosaki. "Four minutes. Unless you want to be trapped here forever?"

Behind them, the walls were already collapsing. The way back was blocked, and Kaito was sure he could already hear the rumbling of the kōtotsu as it drew closer to them. At least this time they were ahead of the collapsing walls, spurred on by Kaito's own speed.

"The walls are collapsing!" Inoue announced with shock, after glancing behind her in curiosity.

"Don't look back!" Kaito reminded the four sharply, praying that they would actually listen to him and knowing that they wouldn't. Fear was gnawing at his gut, fear of failure, of defeat, of all the myriad possibilities that his actions had caused. What if their increased speed was actually their downfall somehow?

So he broke his own rule. Turned his head to keep an eye on the others. Felt his mouth go dry as a gleaming light began to pierce through the collapsing current. And in some twisted parody of how it had been discovered by his group, Ishida caught sight of his expression and glanced behind as well.

"W-what? Something's coming!" Ishida's voice wavered between shock and a touch of panic, and he put on a burst of speed to get closer to the rest of them. "What is that thing?!"

"It's a kōtotsu, a cleaner! It appears once every seven years, but why is it showing up _now_?" Yoruichi informed the other teens, before she shook off her shock and bolted forward past Kaito. "Run for your very lives!"

Kaito strained his eyes, trying to spot the exit that was sure to be ahead of them. Behind them, the kōtotsu raced inexorably closer, the noise of it filling the corridor and ringing in his ears.

"There! The exit!" Yoruichi announced with a hint of relief.

Relief that Kaito didn't feel. He glanced behind him again and took in the looming danger. Saw the glint of determination in Inoue's eyes. Made his decision.

Yoruichi had told them, last time, not to let anything spiritual touch the walls. But this time, without Ishida's mantle being trapped, she hadn't given that warning. And neither had he.

Inoue could be lost.

"Get out of here," he ordered Yoruichi. Knew she could run faster than she was. Knew she could escape.

Kaito reinforced himself to the limit. Turned on his heel and _moved_. A burst of shunpo sent him blurring back to the other teens. Reinforced strength had him lifting Inoue up and _hurling_ her at the exit. Then Ishida. Then Kurosaki.

Sado grunted in surprise as Kaito grabbed the giant teen's arm and _dragged_ the other away with another burst of shunpo, but didn't fight.

The kōtotsu nipping at their heels, Kaito burst from the exit with Sado, and tumbled to land on the shield that Inoue had erected to catch them.

Ishida marched up to him, eyes narrowed and one hand adjusting his glasses, and growled, "What the _hell_ was that for?"

"You four are fast, but not fast enough," Kaito replied, taking out Ishida's mantle and offering it to the teen as a sort of peace-offering. He gave a wry smile as Ishida snatched it away, then turned his attention to the others. "And I needed to keep Inoue-san from making a terrible mistake."

"A… mistake?" Inoue asked hesitantly, one hand drifting up to a hair-clip and her gaze wary.

Kaito nodded, then glanced down at Yoruichi, inviting her to explain.

"The kōryū entangles all spiritual entities. If your little fairies had touched anything in there, we would have lost you," Yoruichi explained with a serious expression.

Inoue stared at her in shock, then glanced around at the rest, her expression troubled and a little lost. "I… I'm sorry."

Yoruichi sighed and shook her head. "No, _I_ _'m_ sorry. I should have insisted on explaining that before we left, when Kaito-kun brought up that more than just your body could trap you."

Kaito winced a bit, feeling guilty. In making sure his past self wasn't trapped, he had inadvertently left Inoue open to more danger. His hand curled inward, touching the charms again, and he forced himself to breath through the guilt. He wasn't all-knowing. He was young, and inexperienced, and even Yoruichi had overlooked that danger. It wasn't his fault.

He focused on the buildings of Seireitei that were so close and yet barred to them by an invisible barrier. It was such a tempting sight; an open road, a clear path, a straight shot into the labyrinth of buildings that made up the city. Kurosaki moved to his side, the teen looking between the nicer buildings of Seireitei and the shabbier buildings all around them.

"So this is Soul Society?" he asked.

"Yes. We're standing in the Rukongai, where normal souls live," Kaito explained to Kurosaki. "It's… well. Even if this is the first district, it's still nothing compared to Seireitei where the Shinigami live."

Kurosaki's frown deepened as he looked around at the shabby buildings and the signs of disrepair. "You came from here, didn't you?"

Kaito made a noise of agreement, turning away from the pristine buildings of Seireitei and looking out at the Rukongai. "Yes. Not this district specifically, but yes."

"Huh." Kurosaki looked around him for a moment, then shrugged and started to march up the street towards Seireitei.

Kaito snorted, reached out, and snagged the collar of Kurosaki's outfit before the teen could take more than three steps towards the line where he remembered the wall crashing down to block them. "Baka. Did all that running tumble loose the lessons I tried to pound into your stubborn head?"

"Ahaha… oops?" Kurosaki rubbed awkwardly at the back of his head, then turned back to stare at the buildings. "It's a trap, isn't it?"

"Yes," Yoruichi answered for Kaito. "There's a barrier around the place that prevents outsiders from entering. Do you really want to announce your presence and position to every Shinigami?"

"No," Kurosaki admitted with a sigh, before he turned back to Kaito and Yoruichi. "So, do you have a plan, then?"

"Of course!" Yoruichi gave a haughty sniff and leapt up onto Kaito's shoulder, gesturing imperiously with a paw. "We need to head over there. The people we're looking for should be that way."

"Not that your plan will be in any way more stealthy than just marching right up there," Kaito told Yoruichi with a touch of amusement.

"That may be so," Yoruichi replied with a smirk, "But it will still be a surprise, which triggering the wall right now will not be."

Kaito grinned faintly in amusement, having to concede the point. The Shiba were anything but sane, and the unexpected seemed to be their favorite hobby. Maybe they were related to Ichigo?

"You have warned her about me, right?" Kaito asked in an undertone, as the five of them walked through the empty streets. The stares and whispers of the hidden souls were disconcerting, but preventing Kurosaki from triggering the wall meant that their group hadn't shown their kindness. To these souls, they were just invaders; a danger to everyone around that wasn't part of their group.

Yoruichi gave a shallow nod and replied just as softly, "I stopped by a few evenings ago to speak with her about our plans. She's agreed to it."

"Thanks." Assured that his disguise wasn't going to fail here, Kaito continued to follow Yoruichi's directions through the empty streets. He kept an eye out just in case; who knew what changes were already coming about thanks to them not spending hours while Inoue was healing the giant's arm.

"Hey! Hey, Chad! How've you been?!"

A sudden shout broke through the tense silence, and Kaito spun around, eyes wide and body tensed for combat before he realized what was going on. A little boy had shoved his way out of one of the houses and bolted across the street towards Chad.

"It's me! Yuichi, the parakeet!" the boy announced, while throwing himself at Chad and wrapping his arms around one of the teen's legs.

Kaito sighed and relaxed. Yuichi wasn't a danger to them, and Kaito could hardly begrudge the two their reunion. When Kurosaki sent him a questioning look, Kaito just shook his head and made a shooing motion towards the child. He didn't remember how much interaction Kurosaki had had with the boy, but after the shock of their run through the dangai and the suspicious looks of the souls here, Kaito thought a friendly face would help set everyone back on an even keel.

"He'll make a good father one day," Yoruichi mused as she watched the two teens interact with the young soul. "He and Kurosaki-kun both."

"Yeah," Kaito said, one hand lifting to rub at the pendant tucked beneath his shirt. Being a parent was something _his_ Ichigo was forever denied; this one would have that choice, Kaito thought with determination.

(*Obviously you'll need to become a father for me, then!*) Ichigo spoke up, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Kaito sputtered, choking on his own spit, and desperately wished he could afford to go into his mindscape in order to glare Ichigo into submission. He waved off Yoruichi's concerned look and got his breathing back under control. ( _*I_ _'d be a horrible father!*_ )

(*Nah!*) Ichigo responded cheerfully. (*Weren't we just thinking about this? Urahara's shown us what a good father is probably supposed to look like, and you're already on your way to being a mini-Urahara anyway.*)

( _*I thought you disliked that change,*_ ) Kaito said warily, not sure how to take Ichigo's words. Sometimes Ichigo seemed to disapprove of his mimicry, and other times, like now, he seemed to approve. It confused him.

Ichigo settled into a thoughtful silence, and Kaito waited as patiently as he could for his friend to put his thoughts into words that would hopefully make sense.

(*I dislike… I dislike it when you deliberately hide everything behind a mask. I understand why you do it, but I still dislike it,*) Ichigo explained slowly. (*But I don't think you realize exactly how much of that mask is starting to become your reality. Not… not the truly over the top stuff, because I think that's a mask even for Urahara and we've both unconsciously picked up on that, but… You're freer, more open than you used to be. You _laugh_ now, and you've been having fun, and not just at the expense of our past selves. Even all that weird mad science mumbo-jumbo that Urahara was teaching you made you happy enough that the towers were practically _glowing_ with it.* )

Kaito took a breath and tilted his head back to stare up at the sky. He knew he had been unbending more recently, even with the looming confrontation on the horizon; hell, he'd been thinking about that exact thing just this morning, albeit in a slightly different context. But having Ichigo agree just drove home how much he'd been changing.

(*You're starting to enjoy yourself,*) Ichigo continued. (*I didn't think I'd ever get to see that. Even before, you never really… seemed to enjoy much. Just sewing, and showing me up.*)

Kaito wanted to protest, wanted to deny that there had been more to his life than those two things, but… could he? He'd had no friends before Ichigo had dragged him into his group. Had no goal beyond 'be the best Quincy he could' and 'prove Ryuuken wrong'. Even his future was a murky goal of 'be _anything_ but a doctor!' Compared to his life now, he had just been existing, just getting by day by day with no plan, no goal, no purpose.

(*I like what you're becoming,*) Ichigo told him firmly. (*I like that you're unbending, and learning to live, and if that means I have to put up with you becoming a terrifying crazy genius like Urahara, then I'm going to despair over the impending end of the world because of the two of you being mad scientists together, but I'm not going to stop you.*)

( _*We wouldn't end the world!*_ ) Kaito shot back, making Ichigo laugh. ( _*Ending the world means we can't do anything else, and that's not fun.*_ )

( ***Jes don't ferget ta fight sometimes, Koneko-chan!*** ) Shiro broke in with a cackle. ( ***Or I'll come an devour ya!*** )

Kaito couldn't resist a smirk at that threat. ( _*Go ahead and try it. I'll just take your sword and beat you right back down.*_ )

Shiro's mad laughter echoed through his soul, but Kaito could only feel contentment out of it. If this was what family meant — a father trusting that he would return victorious, a teacher at his side to keep watch, friends at his back, and three spirits supporting him from within — then he was never going to give this up.

They weren't his by blood, but they were still _his._

And that was what mattered.

* * *

Okay! Sorry about this one being a few days late, but I ran headfirst into Breath of the Wild and had to struggle free. And then in the process of trying to edit this chapter it just kept changing around on me, which was exciting in a whole variety of ways I usually don't get to experience.

So we're in Soul Society now, yay! And Kaito's run headfirst into Feelings and come out on the other side. I hope it didn't seem contrived or anything, but this is essentially the point where Urahara has to step back and let his little chick fly on his own. And even with all the evidence of Urahara giving a damn about him, Kaito was still thinking about things more in terms of mutual-use, not familial care (which he doesn't have many examples of, nor does Ichigo). So the idea that Urahara might actually give a damn for reasons unrelated to Kaito's use to him just... never came up. Because that's silly, who would care about him like that?

Anyway! Thank you for all the likes and favorites and comments, both here and on AO3 and tumblr. Your words keep me going and I very much appreciate them all.


	17. There's Always Time For Kindness

**Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine in the slightest.**

I want to extend my thanks to **each and every person** who reviewed, followed, faved, etc - your words and actions mean the world to me, they truly do.

I'm sorry this took so long to get out. Between last chapter and this one, I ended up getting a job and having to adapt to a new schedule with a lot less time to do things in. So chapters are now going to be released as I get them done, instead of at the end of each month. Hopefully this will result in chapters coming out at a relatively steady pace without guilt on my part, but we'll see. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Kaito pulled himself from his inward focus, the warmth of his realization lending a steadiness to his nerves that hadn't been there before. It was like he'd finally stepped onto solid ground, after fighting through a mire for so long.

He wasn't just fighting for a peaceful future for his past self and the others. He was fighting for a future for _himself_ , for the life he'd built here and the family he'd gathered. He was fighting to _keep_ that, no matter what stood in his way.

In his soul, Shiro laughed and sent feelings of _about-time-idiot_ , and Ichigo felt pleased. Even Zangetsu reached out, presence _proud_ and _content_ and _now-you-get-it_.

Kaito couldn't keep from ducking his head a bit, glancing down at the cobbles under his feet as he tried to pull himself together. Tried to keep from revealing to the world and all the strangers around him the realization he'd just had.

Yoruichi shifted on his shoulder and made a concerned noise, likely wondering what had gotten into him just now.

"It's all right," Kaito murmured to her, reaching up and brushing a hand over her head. "I just… realized something."

And if that wasn't one of the biggest understatements he'd made in his entire life, he really didn't know what was. But how could he explain to her what he'd just realized without sounding… he didn't even know. Sappy. Stupid. Dense. Something like that.

"Just remember you can talk to me if you need to," Yoruichi said after a long, considering pause.

Kaito swallowed. Refused to admit the way Yoruichi's words only made him feel _happier._ Looked desperately for a distraction.

He spotted Sado and Kurosaki, standing and chatting with Yuichi and another young-looking soul, and then swept his gaze over the slowly gathering in search of the last two members of their party. Ishida was easy to spot, standing to one side with his arms crossed over his chest and trying to pretend he wasn't on alert for attack. Inoue was harder to find, though, and Kaito was almost worried that she'd wandered off while he had been distracted.

(*No, wait, near Ishida,*) Ichigo broke in, having moved forward to share vision in order to assist in spotting her.

Kaito looked over at his past self again, then huffed in amusement when he spotted what his friend had. Inoue was crouched near Ishida's side, her body mostly blocking the tell-tale gleam of orange from her healing art.

( _*Why am I not surprised?*_ ) Kaito asked. Ishida's stance took on a much different meaning, now that he had spotted Inoue. The teen wasn't just on alert for _attack_ , he was on alert to make sure Inoue wasn't disturbed while she was healing.

"You folk aren't Shinigami, are you?"

Kaito twitched, snapping his attention away from Inoue and towards the soul that had approached him. He hadn't expected to be approached at all, and the soul had no hint of reiatsu about him to give warning of his approach.

( _*An oversight you will need to correct,*_ ) Zangetsu suggested calmly. ( _*Some of our opponents are quite adept at stealth, and I would rather we not be surprised by them down the road. We don't need to be on alert at all times, but better sensing skills are rarely a waste of time to train.*_ )

( _*I will,*_ ) Kaito agreed. Just because he was good _now_ didn't mean there wasn't room for improvement. And Zangetsu made so few suggestions or demands these days that going along with something like this seemed like such a little thing.

"We're not," Kaito told the soul when the other continued to watch him with a slightly wary gaze.

"Figured as much," the man said agreeably, relaxing a bit at the confirmation, though most of his wariness remained. He jut his chin slightly to indicate where Kurosaki was ruffling the hair of a child-like soul, and speaking with another soul that looked like a teenager. "Shinigami are bullies. They'd never act like he is. And the rest of you don't look like Shinigami anyway."

"We all have our own powers," Kaito said. He considered the man for a moment longer, then went back to watching the others interact with the souls of the district. It wasn't precisely the same as when Ichigo had defended Jindabo from the traitor Captain, but their actions were creating a level of goodwill that would hopefully serve them well if it ever became important. Even Yoruichi seemed content to let this distraction play out as it would.

Besides, part of his cover was that he was _from_ the Rukongai. Denying these souls healing, or urging Sado to ignore the soul of the boy he protected would go against what he thought a soul in his position would do.

(*That… never really sat well with me,*) Ichigo admitted after a moment. (*Being told that Shinigami are bullies, I mean. Don't a lot of them come from the Rukongai?*)

( _*I believe so. But can you honestly tell me that many of the common Shinigami are not akin to bullies? And some of the low-ranked seated officers aren_ _'t much better. Whether because they see the powerless souls around them as lesser, or because they want to distance themselves from their past, you can't ignore that the truly kind and helpful Shinigami we've met is limited to a tiny fraction of the total.*_ )

Ichigo sighed, unhappy at Kaito's words, but unable to refute them. (*And even the kind ones can be deceptive.*)

"Why are you here?" the soul asked.

Kaito frowned a bit at the man's abrupt question and looked over at him in question.

The man met his gaze with a hard one of his own, judging and wary. "You're all ryoka, and you're obviously thinking about heading into Seireitei itself. So why are you here?"

Yoruichi remained silent, even when Kaito gave her a sidelong look to see if she'd respond for him.

"We're here to rescue one of our friends," Kaito said, deciding that the truth was likely the best answer. He nodded at Kurosaki, the only Shinigami-looking one of their group. "He became a Shinigami because our friend got in over her head in a fight and passed her powers on to him. Now she's in trouble because of it."

"Sounds like the Shinigami," the man said. He gave Kaito a considering look, then turned another on the other four ryoka.

Kaito had no idea what the man was looking for, but he seemed to find it. Tension released from the other's body, and the wary edge faded away from prominence.

"You lot seem like good kids," the man continued as he looked back at Kaito. "Good luck saving your friend from the Shinigami. And if you ever need a place to lay low, come to this district and we'll get you tucked away."

"Making new allies, I see," Yoruichi said with amusement as the man walked away from them. "That's always a good thing."

"I wasn't trying to," Kaito muttered, confused at the way the conversation had gone. He didn't remember _Ichigo_ getting an offer like that, so what had changed?

(*Well, we didn't get into a big fight this time?*) Ichigo offered. (*We showed up, started moving away, and then stopped to help common souls? And I think all of our group is… kinder this time. Less aloof. Less furious.*)

( _*Would that really make such a difference?*_ ) Kaito wondered, even as he started moving towards Ishida and Inoue, to find out how long she thought her healing would take.

(*I don't know.*)

"How long will you be?" Kaito asked Inoue when he got within comfortable speaking distance.

Inoue looked up at him, though her healing barrier didn't flicker around the child she was healing. She seemed to be judging how far she could push him for a moment, before giving him a smile. "Not too much longer! I should have him healed up in a few more minutes."

Kaito hesitated, glancing up at the sun and then back down to the group that had gathered around Inoue. Last time, Inoue had spent the entire afternoon and into the early evening healing Jindabo. This time, they'd barely been in Seireitei for a half hour so far.

"To heal the rest, I mean," Kaito corrected her after considering his options. "Especially those that need it badly."

"O-oh!" Inoue shot him a startled look that morphed into understanding. The smile she gave him the second time was bigger. Warmer. Less wary. "Maybe an hour or two?"

"Very well. Ishida?"

"I'll stay with her," his past self confirmed with a nod.

Kaito carefully stamped down on his jealousy at the way Ishida was already stepping up as Inoue's protector. He'd lost that right along with losing his birth name and torturing her in the name of training. Instead, he gave Ishida a small smile and said, "Thank you. Do try not to get lost."

Ishida scoffed and waved him off. "Lost, when both you and Kurosaki are practically beacons in this place? Hardly."

"I'm not leaking _that_ badly!" Kaito snapped back, after hastily checking his own output and finding it just as restrained as usual. He paused, outrage breaking off abruptly at the sight of Ishida's tiny smirk, then bared his teeth at his past self in a challenging 'grin'. The brat had been _teasing_ him! How dare—

His past self had been teasing him?

"If you say so, senpai," Ishida continued airily, as he stepped around Kaito and took a new position at Inoue's side. "Perhaps you should do something about _Kurosaki_ _'s_ output, then?"

"But then you'd be in danger of getting lost," Kaito automatically sniped back, mind swirling with ' _he_ _'s teasing me!'_ and _'did he just call me senpai?'_ and ' _what the hell caused_ _ **this**_ _change?_ _'_

"I think I'll manage," Ishida responded dryly. "Instead, I'll simply search for the chaos in your wake."

"Says the person who tried to start a _competition_ with Kurosaki during their second interaction with him."

"Says the person who dragged me to the shoten _by my ear_."

" _ **Boys,**_ " Inoue broke in, looking up from another small child that she was healing. She gave them both a bright, _terrifying_ smile, and continued, "Don't you have something better to do?"

Kaito exchanged a glance with Ishida, both of them wondering exactly when Inoue had decided to become terrifying instead of kind and ditzy. Deciding that retreat was the better option, Kaito flashed Ishida another grin and moved away, leaving the other teen to be Inoue's protector with a lighter heart.

As he approached Kurosaki and Sado, and the collection of child-like souls surrounding the two Karakura teens, Kurosaki looked over at him and gave him a questioning look.

"We'll move on in an hour or two, when Inoue-san is done healing those she can," Kaito answered the unspoken question. A few of the young souls gathered around Kurosaki and Sado made noises of discontent at his words, and Kaito fixed them with his best approximation of Urahara's serious look. "We're here to save one of our friends. If we don't keep moving, she'll take the blame for something that wasn't her fault."

Yuichi made a noise of understanding and leaned forward on Sado's shoulders, gaze intent. "It's that girl that was with Ichigo, isn't it? I don't see her with you."

Kaito nodded at the young boy, surprised the other had remembered Rukia at all. "Yes. Because she's a Shinigami, and the other Shinigami think she's at fault for some of the things that happened in Karakura, so we're going to make sure they listen to reason."

The young-looking souls seemed quite taken with his words, and a general murmur of approval started to go through the group. A few of the older looking ones at the edges even drifted off from the crowd and dispersed amongst the other bystanders.

"Just be ready to go when Inoue-san is done," Kaito told Kurosaki and Sado, before stepping back to leave them at the mercy of the young souls who now knew they were on a time limit. He moved to put his back against a wall, trying to relax despite knowing that they were essentially out in the open within walking distance of Seireitei.

(*I think we've won them over,*) Ichigo mused as they considered the crowd and the way it was moving.

Kaito had to agree. The wariness and hostility that had shown in the beginning was all but erased at this point, replaced with hesitant, friendly smiles and curiosity. ( _*I_ _'m not surprised, though. Even our group, as fractured and individual as we were… between Inoue-san healing Jindabo and you and Sado-san being kind, we must have been a breath of fresh air.*_ )

(*Hey! Even you helped out!*)

( _*Not as often or as well as I should have,*_ ) Kaito replied. The soul who had spoken to him before caught his eye and gave a friendly wave, and Kaito replied with a small smile of his own.

Ichigo hesitated, and Kaito frowned a bit at the uncertainty he could feel from his friend.

( _*It_ _'s not your fault,*_ ) Zangetsu spoke up when it became clear that Ichigo couldn't find words. ( _*It is_ _ **neither of your**_ _faults. The only fault would be if you did not grow beyond that.*_ )

( ***Yeah! Ain** **'t yer fuckin' faults yer fathers were shit!*** ) Shiro interjected, voice annoyed. ( ***How th** **'fuck were ya supposed ta act?*** )

Kaito froze for a moment, shocked at Shiro's brutal truth, then huffed softly and shook his head. He needed to stop forgetting that 'instinct' meant more than just 'battle instincts', even if that was how Shiro tended to present himself.

It was one of the most dangerous things about Shiro, Kaito mused, as he reached up to pet Yoruichi. Shiro's mask of being interested only in battle made it easy to forget that the spirit was _intelligent_ and exceedingly perceptive. Kaito was just pleased that Shiro was on _his_ side now.

Shiro's projected annoyance bled out into smug pride, and Kaito resisted a smile of amusement as he settled in to watch the souls and wait for Inoue to finish her healing.

Time moved slowly, as the souls became more and more comfortable with them around, and went back to their daily lives. Kaito watched Sado and Kurosaki be dragged into a game with the younger souls, and the fond smiles of the adults around them. Occasionally a few of the adults approached Kaito to speak with him, and they chatted amiably for a few minutes before moving on.

Still, he didn't think more than an hour and a half had passed before Inoue and Ishida approached him, with Kurosaki and Sado trailing along a few minutes later, still shedding younger souls like water.

"Ready to go?" Kaito asked Inoue when she reached him.

"Yep! They're all healed up," Inoue replied with a happy smile. "Thank you for giving me the opportunity, Kaito-san. How do the Shinigami _do_ it? Just ignore all these people right outside their walls?"

Kaito bit his lip and glanced away from her, wondering how best to answer that.

"The Shinigami are rather self-contained," Yoruichi spoke up, her voice carefully neutral. "They have many duties that they need to take care, so what little free time they have is often spent with friends, not out here."

Kurosaki and Ishida both fixed him with narrowed gazes, clearly putting together his silence at the question with other pieces of information and coming up with a picture of the Rukongai that Kaito _wished_ wasn't so brutally true. He'd learned enough about the place from Urahara and Yoruichi to pass himself off as a native if he needed to, and _nothing_ he learned made him happy.

"Let's get moving," Kurosaki spoke up into the slightly awkward silence that had fallen. "You still haven't told us where we're going, Kaito."

 _That_ brought a pleased smirk to Kaito's lips, and he shook off his discomfort and said, "That's the _fun_ of it, Kurosaki-kun."

"Does that worry anyone else?" Kurosaki asked, head tipped back slightly to stare up at the sky in exasperation. "Because I think I'm officially worried."

"I am too," Sado agreed.

"Yes," Ishida responded, voice dry and gaze flat. "Somehow, I feel like I'm going to be regretting my decisions very soon."

"I think it'll be fun!" Inoue spoke up, giving all of them a cheerful smile. "A little mystery never hurt anyone!"

Kurosaki, Sado, and Ishida all stared at Inoue in disbelief, then sighed, unwilling or unable to argue in the face of her cheerful nature.

Kaito gave Inoue a grin of his own, then gestured grandly in the direction they needed to take. "Well! No one will find out if we don't keep moving."

The suspicious looks thrown at him for that made Kaito laugh. He couldn't _wait_ to see their reactions to the Shiba compound!

* * *

"Are you sure you know where the hell you're going?" Kurosaki asked, voice suspicious, as they waded through knee high grass. "This is a long way away from the village."

Kaito schooled his expression into one of disappointment, then cast a glance over his shoulder at Kurosaki. "Are you doubting me, Kurosaki-kun?"

Kurosaki took a step back, hands raised in a placating gesture, and said, "Nope, no, not at all! Just wondering."

( ***Hah! Fuckin** **' pansy!*** )

(*You cringe when Urahara acts like that,*) Ichigo interjected, trying to stand up for his past self. (*Kaito's getting pretty good at acting like Hat'n'Clogs.*)

Kaito bit back a laugh and turned back to the empty landscape around them. He had forgotten exactly how far out of town Kukaku had built her house. It made sense to him now, after meeting her and learning a bit about her family, but back then, in this moment…

"The person we're looking for prefers places like this," Kaito relented and explained a bit. He kept moving through the grasslands, occasionally changing his heading whenever Yoruichi indicated. This trip felt like it had been an entire lifetime ago, instead of less than a year, so even though he had been the one guiding them with the map back then, the actual path was hazy in his memory.

"Quiet, deserted, and with plenty of space to build a house," Yoruichi agreed, scanning the area from her perch on Kaito's shoulder. "They change residences a lot, but you'll know the place when you see it."

"We will?" Inoue asked, quickening her steps to walk at Kaito's side so she could stare up at Yoruichi. "Why?"

Yoruichi laughed a bit, ears perking up as she spied the place they were heading towards. "Well, just take a look and see for yourselves!"

"What. The hell," Kurosaki asked when the building finally came into full view. He and the others stopped in their tracks and just stared, disbelief and shock writ large across their expressions.

Kaito muffled his laughter behind a hand, at both the reactions of the others and at the sight of the house in front of him. The details had _clearly_ grown vague in his mind, because it was still a hilarious sight to see the building with the silly arms emerging from the ground, holding the banner between them.

( _*Maybe they_ _ **are**_ _related to you,*_ ) Kaito proposed after a moment's contemplation of the ridiculous sight. He started moving forward again, knowing that the other teens would eventually snap out of it and follow him. ( _*This seems like something Kurosaki-sensei would do.*_ )

(*If that's the case, then she's _your_ relative too, now!* ) Ichigo shot back, exasperation and resignation in his voice. (*But yeah, I could see it. Goat-face is… you know, now that I think about it, he's a lot like Ganju.*)

Kaito made a face at the reminder of what their merging had done to him, flexing his left hand absently. He'd never considered it quite like that, but… it was true, wasn't it. And if Ichigo was related to the Shiba, then technically so was he, even if distantly.

He had never had the courage to ask Urahara exactly how he had been changed by the merging, what it had even done to him. Was he actually related to Kurosaki-sensei now? Or did he just share a few traits with the man? In the end, he supposed it didn't matter too much. He was Urahara's son in name if not in biological truth, and there was no way to undo what had occurred to set him upon this path.

(A desperate, dark corner of his soul was inordinately pleased about that. That he could never be _alone_ anymore, trapped and drowning in a world that cared nothing for him.)

(His own happiness made him sick at times.)

Ichigo gave a low growl, his mental presence overlapping with Shiro's for a moment, and forced himself forward enough to briefly take control of their body. He brought their arms up, tucking their hands away in the kimono sleeves and closing their left hand firmly over the charm bracelet on their right wrist. The edges of the metal charms dug painfully into their palm.

( _*Ichigo!*_ ) Kaito hissed warningly, as their control wavered back and forth. It was all he could do to keep walking with his own gait instead of tripping and falling, since Ichigo wasn't being very delicate with his approach.

(*Are you going to stop moping? Or do I need to kick you back to Shiro so he can beat it out of you?*)

( ***I think he needs it anyway!*** ) Shiro spoke up gleefully. ( ***Couple** **'a rounds'll have him too exhausted to mope and miss daddy!*** )

( _*I am not moping! And I certainly am not missing_ _ **Urahara!**_ _*_ ) Kaito yelped, offended and exasperated by turns. He was _not_ missing Urahara, no matter what that bloody Hollow insisted. It hadn't even been a _day_ for heaven's sake!

(*That's better,*) Ichigo said as he withdrew as abruptly as he had shoved forward, leaving Kaito to stumble and huff at the sudden switch.

Yoruichi leaned out a bit so she could properly give him a concerned look, and Kaito had to shake his head and give her a rueful smile.

"Just… memories," he prevaricated.

The look she gave him said she didn't truly believe his words, but thankfully they were almost at the house and there was neither time nor the privacy to question him further.

Having been through this once, Kaito stood firm when the two tall men appeared to block their path. Staring up at them, he had to wonder… what was it about Soul Society that created such ridiculously gigantic people? He was _hardly_ short, and so many people just _towered_ over him despite that fact.

"Who are you?" the first demanded, staring down at the group with a narrowed gaze.

"You're dressed strangely, and one of you is a Shinigami," the second continued accusingly, fixing Kurosaki with a wary, suspicious look.

"We're expected," Kaito interrupted, before the accusations could continue and lead to Kurosaki opening his mouth. A spark of mischief — and a desire to distract Yoruichi from what had just happened — caused him to pluck the feline from his shoulders before she could react. Kaito held her up to the two guards, hands around Yoruichi's chest just below her front legs, and gave the guards his best grin. "Yoruichi-sensei said so!"

She squirmed in his grip and gave him a baleful glare. "The next time we train…"

Kaito laughed sheepishly, and shifted his hold so that he was holding her in his arms against his chest, instead of letting her continue to dangle. "Well, you are our ticket in, aren't you?"

"That doesn't mean you can _manhandle_ me!" Yoruichi complained, before she looked over at the two guards and gentling her tone. "My apologies. I should have sent a bit more warning, but I was unsure as to the date we would be arriving."

"It's fine, Yoruichi-sama! We didn't realize these were your attendents," one of the guards said, giving a small bow and opening the door. "Please, come in."

They progressed down the long flight of stairs, down into the basement that was actually the main floor. The tiny little house above-ground was nothing more than a show-piece, Kaito was sure. Why Kukaku would want to live below ground was beyond him; and maybe there wasn't even an actual reason, just another one of the Shiba whims.

"Please wait here for a moment," their escort told them once they reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Koganehiko?" Kukaku's voice called out from behind the door to their side. "Have you brought me some interesting guests?"

"Yoruichi-sama and attendants have arrived!" the guard called back, already reaching out to open the door.

"Well, what're you waiting for! Let them in!"

The door slid open, and Kaito nodded his thanks to Koganehiko as he passed. Yoruichi jumped from his arms and sauntered the rest of the way into the room on her own, tail proudly bannered and the tip twitching from side to side.

He supposed that he and the others did look like her attendants, the way they all trailed in after her like ducklings. Kaito turned his head a bit to look over his shoulder, wanting to see the moment when the others realized that Kukaku was a woman. He remembered the feeling of shock in this moment, and wanted to actually see how everyone reacted.

"Welcome back, Yoruichi," Kukaku said from her lounging position. She leaned forward a bit to eye them all up, her gaze lingering on Kaito before switching back to Yoruichi. "You'd mentioned this, but somehow I didn't think you'd actually go through with it."

"Kukaku's a _woman?!_ " the four Karakura teens exclaimed almost as one.

"And why aren't _you_ surprised at this?" Kurosaki asked Kaito, spotting the look of amusement on Kaito's face.

His mirth vanished as quickly as it had come, and Kaito glanced over at Kukaku, unsure on how to respond to that. This was technically the first time they had met, so he could — and probably should — just say that Yoruichi had told him. But if she had told him, then why wouldn't she have told the others? He didn't know how much Yoruichi had told Kukaku, and that left him floundering.

"Tch. Who the hell do you think kept him safe until Yoruichi and Urahara could get him to the Living World?" Kukaku shot Kurosaki a look, then focused on Kaito again. "I didn't expect to see you here again, kid, much less willingly."

Kaito tilted his chin up and squared his shoulders. "I'm not about to allow them to go into Soul Society blind."

Kukaku's gaze was piercing, and Kaito bit back the urge to fidget like a child beneath it. Finally, she sighed and relented. "Well, guess I didn't really expect much else from _his_ son. Urahara always was stubbornly loyal once he found people to give his loyalty to."

Relieved that she wasn't going to make a big deal about it, or make his story a lie, Kaito settled onto the floor across from Kukaku. The others seated themselves around him, with Kurosaki and Sado to his right and Ishida and Inoue to his left. It felt strange to be the focal point, the one around which the others gathered, but Kaito wasn't going to argue with it. Not if it meant they actually listened to him when it was important.

"So," Kukaku continued, once they were all seated. She took a deep draw of her lit pipe and exhaled the earthen-scented smoke. The smoke coiled lazily around her, as she scanned their faces before focusing back on Yoruichi. "You're all here to invade Seireitei and save a friend."

"That's correct," Yoruichi said.

Kukaku smirked. "Well, who am I to say no to trouble. I accept."

"Just like that?" Kurosaki exclaimed incredulously, as he leaned forward a bit and stared at her in shock. "You don't even know us!"

Kukaku laughed, smoke billowing from her mouth and making her look like a dragon. When she finally regained her poise, she grinned toothily at Kurosaki and gestured towards Kaito. "If Urahara's involved, how could I possibly say no? You've got his son sitting right there, pretty as you please; if that's not tacit agreement with this scheme, I have no idea what would be."

"You weren't kidding, were you," Ishida leaned in and murmured to Kaito. "About how known he is here."

Kaito shook his head slightly, glancing at his past self out of the corner of his eye. He could almost see the gears turning in Ishida's mind; despite the location and oddity of the house, there were many things that stood out about the Shiba compound. The clearly loyal guards, this room, the way Kukaku was holding court… it all pointed at _nobility_ , albeit exiled nobility. Combined with the guards addressing Yoruichi as sama, and Kaito's own joking comment about 'friends in high places', he was certain that Ishida was putting the pieces together at a furious pace.

"You're right, though," Kukaku continued. "I don't know you. I trust Yoruichi, and Urahara, but you kids… I'm not so sure about you. I'm assigning a man to assist. That's all right with you, isn't it?"

Yoruichi nodded. "Of course. I expected as much."

"I'll have to introduce you later," Kukaku continued, as she flicked her pipe to dislodge the ashes. "He's out with his crew right now, but he should be back in a few hours. In the mean time… Koganehiko! Come show our guests to the dining room so they can have some food while they wait."

The door behind them slid open once more, and the guard from before said, "Of course, ma'am!"

As Kaito went to rise with the rest of them, Kukaku said, "Not you, boy. Sit a while with me and chat. You'll get lunch when we're through."

Resigned to being singled out, Kaito settled back down and rested his hands lightly on his knees, then twisted around to make sure the other teens were actually leaving. He shook his head at Kurosaki when the teen made an aborted motion to return to his side, and gave the other three a pointed look as well. All of them, even Ishida, seemed reluctant to leave him alone with Kukaku, but under his steady gaze they slowly drifted out of the room and away. That left Yoruichi, but Kaito hadn't expected her to leave anyway.

They sat in silence for a moment, as Kukaku held her pipe in her mouth and deftly rolled a ball of tobacco with her single hand and set it in place. A spark danced atop one finger, and the tobacco lit as she circled her finger around the little ball. She took a draw and exhaled a stream of pale smoke that rippled with light.

"There, that should keep nosy kids away," Kukaku said with satisfaction, as she crossed her legs and shifted her body into a less relaxed pose than she had taken earlier. "Alright, kid. Yoruichi told me a fascinating little tale. I agreed to go along with it because Urahara's backing it, but I want the truth."

Panicked, Kaito looked to Yoruichi, eyes wide and mind blank. How was he supposed to react to that? What was he supposed to _say?_ Every person who knew the truth posed that much more of a risk to him, and unlike Urahara and Yoruichi, he didn't really _know_ Kukaku at all!

Yoruichi met his gaze calmly, tail coiled around her feet, body at ease… and completely silent.

"I won't rat you out to the Shinigami, if that's what you're worried about, kid," Kukaku told him, her voice mild.

Kaito sighed, his shoulders slumping a bit as he accepted the inevitable. Kukaku was a terrifying woman, and he really didn't want to get on her bad side. He also vaguely remembered that she had no real love for the Shinigami at this time, but… well, she did seem loyal to Yoruichi and Urahara. "I'm from a few months in the future."

Kukaku choked, coughing on a lungful of smoke that she'd inhaled at his blunt words. "Damn, kid, you don't mince words!"

"You asked," Kaito replied with a wry smile, before he dropped his gaze to the floor and continued. "Things went… poorly in the war with Aizen. A backfiring kido sent me into the past, and then Urahara found me."

She fixed him with a thoughtful look, then switched her attention to Yoruichi. Whatever she saw there seemed to satisfy her, because Kukaku gave a reluctant laugh and shook her head. "If you didn't look like that, I'd call you a liar right here and now. But that form of yours… it's like looking at a young Kisuke again. So either you're his real son, and he's got you living some elaborate lie for reasons I don't understand, or he's hiding you as his son and your story is probably true."

Kaito shrugged. He really couldn't blame Kukaku for her reaction. The idea of someone being from the future was ridiculous, and he wouldn't have believed it possible either.

"Damn. You're one of those kids that just left, aren't you," Kukaku continued, her gaze sharp and thoughtful. "You're not brash enough to be the one that sat to your right, I doubt you'd go along with being a _son_ if you were the girl, and you don't have the height to be that other boy to your right. Which leaves the kid that sat to your left."

Kaito hesitated a moment, then sighed and gave a shallow nod. "To some extent, yes. I was him."

Kukaku took another draw on her pipe, letting the smoke slowly trickle from her nose and mouth as she eyed him in silence. "If I didn't know, I wouldn't have pegged you for him. You're pretty good at acting like Urahara. That'll get you in deep shit with the Shinigami, you know."

"He already warned me," Kaito informed her firmly, not willing to allow her to believe that Urahara would just let him walk into this mess without being aware. "I will be fine."

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Youth, always sure they know what's best. Well! I doubt I can convince you otherwise, especially if he's already agreed to this."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

Kukaku barked a laugh and shook her head, then waved a hand at him. "Alright, off with you. Go feed that stomach of yours and make sure your friends aren't getting up to anything stupid. I take it you already know how I plan to get you in?"

"Yes."

"Good. Tell one of the servants to bring you to the training hall after lunch. I'll bring a Reishūkaku down and you can deal with teaching them."

"I understand," Kaito said, as he rose from his position and bowed politely to her. He then hesitated for a moment, and reluctantly asked, "About that… the servants, and Ganju…"

"Don't worry about my people, kid. I sat them all down after Yoruichi came through and told them what they needed to know. They won't betray me," Kukaku told him. "Ganju knows the story, too. He's out most of the day with his idiot friends anyway, so you wouldn't have interacted with him much. And if he slips up, I'll just pound some respect into his head again."

Kaito gave an awkward smile, knowing that the woman wasn't joking in the slightest about her reaction. Before she could take offense at him not leaving immediately, Kaito glanced down at Yoruichi and asked, "Are you staying with her, sensei?"

"We have plenty to catch up on," Yoruichi said with a playful sniff. "Adult things, gossip, you know. You can join us if you want?"

"No, I think I'll pass," Kaito told her dryly, as he moved away towards the door. "I'd prefer to retain what little sanity I have left at this point. Being an Urahara is hard enough, and I suspect you're at least half the reason for that."

"Brat!" Yoruichi playfully called after him, as Kaito slid open the door and stepped through.

The minute he had the door closed behind him, the sound of speaking cut off with a _snap_ , telling him that whatever Kukaku had done was still in effect. Kaito slumped against the frame for a moment, dragging a hand through his hair and trying to gather his scattered thoughts.

There was so much he needed to do, so much he needed to care about, that it felt like a physical weight upon his shoulders. How in the world did his father _handle_ all of it? If the man wasn't making plans to deal with Aizen, he was creating contingencies for things that Kaito hadn't even _considered_.

(*One step at a time,*) Ichigo said. (*We're not Urahara, and we don't _need_ to be. We just need to do our best.* )

( _*One step at a time?*_ ) Kaito tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling. ( _*Alright. That_ _'s… getting your past self to manage the Reishūkaku. And maybe try to teach him a bit more control. On one hand, I really don't want to split us up again, but on the other…*_ )

(*It did mean Seireitei was rife with chaos, trying to track all of us down,*) Ichigo agreed. (*But we can do that ourselves, can't we? Let the other four run around together, and go create chaos by ourselves.*)

( ***Yeah! Sounds like my kinda plan!*** ) Shiro gleefully broke in. ( ***Let** **'s do it!*** )

(*You know they'll likely end up splitting up anyway,*) Ichigo continued as if Shiro hadn't spoken. (*At least once or twice.*)

Kaito couldn't restrain the guttural growl that slipped through at Ichigo's words. ( _*They had damn well better not!*_ )

(*Sometimes that's just the soundest choice,*) Ichigo said with ruthless calm. (*And I doubt my past self will allow anyone to butt in on his combat with Byakuya.*)

He had to swallow back his fury and frustration, but Ichigo was right. Some things would never change, no matter how much he tried to make them. That combat with Byakuya was likely one of those things, and Kaito really couldn't begrudge Kurosaki the battle. Not with everything that sat between those two.

( _*Fine. Fine, what happens, happens. But I am going to make sure they all start together.*_ )

Mind made up and goal in mind, Kaito pushed away from the door frame, straightened his shoulders, finger-combed his hair back into a semblance of order, and turned to stalk off to find the dining room where the others had been taken. Food first, beating sense into other teens second.

His memory, luckily, was good enough to recall the way to the dining room that his companions had probably been shown to. One screwup here and his story would be made a lie — it didn't make any sense for him to _not_ know his way around the place.

But he made it without trouble — and without needing help from the flitting servants that seemed to be trailing him wherever he went — and paused at the doorway in time to see a servant placing another tray of food down at an empty spot and to hear the tail end of a conversation that was likely about him. He hung back, curiosity aroused, and hid his presence as best he could, hoping that none of the teens had noticed his arrival.

"—keep doing everything for us," Ishida was saying. "You saw how she reacted to him, and she's not even a Shinigami."

"You're right," Inoue agreed. She played with the rice in her bowl for a moment, then glanced over at the servant and the fresh tray. "I think… I think he's been underplaying how much danger he's in, here."

"Do you want to tell him no?" Kurosaki grumbled. "His _father_ let him come, and he calls Yoruichi his sensei. If they let him, what chance do we have to change his mind?"

 _None,_ Kaito wanted to say, his left hand clenching as he listened to them talk. _This is my decision and I_ _'m going to fight for a future for all of us, whether you like it or not._

"Then we need to keep an eye out," Sado said. "Watch his back."

The other three murmured their agreement, and Kaito want to _scoff_ , wanted to _yell_ at them, tell them off for being _idiots_ because he could _protect himself_. But…

But that was an Uryuu response. One that he saw the ending of, and never wanted to live through again.

Kaito took a calming breath, reined in his reaction, and forced himself to think logically. If they decided to be overprotective idiots about it, _then_ he'd tell them off, and remind them how much he outclassed all of them, even together. But the more eyes on the lookout for trouble, the less likely it was that the Shinigami would get away with anything. He could live with that.

Mind made up, Kaito slipped into the room and settled quietly at the place set out for him.

"You're back!" Kurosaki exclaimed, the second the teen looked up from his meal and spotted him. "We were wondering if she was ever going to let you go."

Kaito made a noise of amusement and shook his head. "She just wanted to make sure I was doing okay. And to inform me of how we were going to get into Seireitei."

"And that would be..?" Ishida asked.

"You'll see!" Kaito chirped in that infuriating manner his father had. "It'll be exciting for sure."

The four teens exchanged wary looks, then Inoue leaned forward and smiled up at him. "Exciting? Oh! Are we going to sneak in like spies through the sewers? Or in a hay cart like in the old stories! Do Shinigami even use horses? I haven't seen one around but everything _else_ here looks very feudal in origin, so they have horses too, right?"

Kaito laughed, shot the three boys a wicked look, then settled in to answer Inoue's questions without revealing a thing about how they were going to actually infiltrate Seireitei.

Urahara was right, it was a lot of fun to mess with people's heads.

* * *

 **Aaaand there's chapter 17. About 1000 words shy of the original chapter I'd written out, and at the same time about 2000 words longer XD Fact of the matter is, the original chapter is about 8k, and this ending point is actually around the 6k word mark on that original chapter. Scenes just kept expanding and slotting themselves in, so the training, which was supposed to be in this chapter, has been pushed off to the next chapter.**

 **My, but this sounds like my original estimates "Oh I'll have Uryuu back in time by chapter 4!" Ahahahahahaha...**

 **Well, I hope you enjoyed it!**


	18. A Last Scramble For Training

**Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine in the slightest.**

Once again, thank you everyone who showed your appreciation to this story. Your words and actions kept me going through the stupid that's been my life these past few months.

* * *

As soon as the servants had swept away the last dish, Kaito stood and gestured for the others to follow him. Out of the dining hall and down the hall he went, ignoring the questions of the others in favor of trying to remember where, exactly, the training rooms actually were. He had a dim recollection, and felt certain he was moving in the right direction, but he didn't remember _which_ of the doors actually led to the room he needed.

Thankfully, a servant appeared ahead of them and slid open one of the doors, looking for all the world like this was normal. Like they weren't acting under Kukaku's orders to hide the fact that he had never been here before to their knowledge.

"Thank you," Kaito told the man, as he moved past the servant and into the room. Kukaku was waiting, a Reishūkaku in her hand and two more at her feet.

"Here, kid," she said, tossing the Reishūkaku at him with a casual gesture and smirking when he glowered back after being knocked back a few steps. "You promised to teach the others how to use this, so go on. Consider this repayment for me putting you up before."

"Yeah, yeah," Kaito sighed and waved a hand lazily at her in a brushing motion, having expected her to act like this after their meeting earlier. His father might be the one pulling the favor, but _he_ was the one here, and this would cement his story a bit further. So Kaito turned to face his companions and gestured for them to come closer. "Alright, come over here and watch carefully."

He held the sphere in his hands for a moment, contemplating it as the other four gathered around him in an arc. This had been their first encounter with fine reiatsu control in his reality; even he had needed practice to produce a sphere instead of an oblong.

But this time…

Kaito focused, calling up everything he had learned about control as his reiatsu sank into the sphere in a steady flow. The shell formed with barely a flicker, perhaps not quite as spherical as it should be, but steady and solid nonetheless. A touch more concentration smoothed the shape out, leaving him within a translucent golden ball.

"What the hell?" Kurosaki asked, stepping closer and resting a hand on the shell. "Kaito..?"

"This is how we're going to get into Seireitei," Kaito explained as he looked up from the Reishūkaku and focused on the other teens. "The wall might not be down right now, but never doubt the defenses available to the Shinigami. This will protect us against nearly anything, so long as we can work together to keep it stable."

He cut off his reiatsu so that the shell faded away smoothly, then tossed the Reishūkaku at Ishida. "Give it a try. Just focus your reiatsu into the sphere in a steady stream."

Ishida pursed his lips and gave a shallow nod, staring down at the Reishūkaku in concentration. Reiatsu flickered around Ishia's hands for a moment, before he found the trick of feeding power into it, and suddenly an oblong shell snapped into being around the teen.

"A bit more focus," Kaito suggested. "You want as close to a perfect sphere as you can manage to hold. Keep that in your thoughts as you feed your reiatsu into it."

While Ishida didn't verbally acknowledge him, Kaito knew he had been heard; the oblong flared outward slowly, coming closer to being a sphere but not quite reaching it.

"Good," Kaito said, acknowledging the progress Ishida had already made. "Enough for right now. Pass it to Inoue-san and let her try. Once you've all had a chance to try it in front of me, I'll pass out the other two so more of you can practice at once."

The shell disappeared in a small flash of uncontrolled reishi, and Ishida handed the sphere over to Inoue as instructed. She took it with a touch of hesitance, and stared into the patterned center thoughtfully as she cradled the orb in her hands.

Kaito remained silent, waiting for her to either ask for his assistance or to give it a try on her own. He didn't know what was running through Inoue's mind in this moment; his own Inoue had been cheerful and excited to learn, not silent and thoughtful. Without any idea of how best to encourage her, Kaito simply held his tongue and watched.

"Belief," Inoue whispered, just loud enough for the rest of their group to hear. A determined look settled across her expression, and wisps of power began to gather around her fingers. A spherical shell flickered into being, thin and delicate like glass, before firming up.

"Well done," Kaito told her, watching the way she was playing with her reiatsu output to control the sphere. "All that practice with your shields has served you well here."

She gave him a bright smile, allowing the shell to fade away with almost as much control as Kaito had shown. "Thank you. It's different than my shields, but imagining that the orb was one of my fairies helped a lot."

Without waiting for him to direct her, Inoue turned to Sado and offered the tall teen the Reishūkaku next. Sado accepted it with a small frown, holding it in his left hand and clearly attempting to concentrate. Except, instead of feeding power into the Reishūkaku, his armor began to form over his arm and the orb remained lifeless in his hand.

"Like Inoue-san found, it's easier if you imagine the Reishūkaku as a part of you," Kaito suggested when Sado's gaze cut over to him briefly. "Think of the orb as just an extension of your armor, another place where your power needs to go. Don't worry about keeping your armor from activating, just try to include the Reishūkaku in that activation for now."

Sado nodded his understanding and turned his attention back to the sphere. A flare of power rippled down his arm, calling his armor into full existence, and a small amount sunk into the Reishūkaku as well. The shell that formed was lopsided and weak, and collapsed inward with a _pop_ after only a few seconds, but it had existed.

"Did you feel how it took in your power?" Kaito asked. At Sado's nod, he continued cheerfully, "Good! Try again, focusing on that feeling."

The next shell that Sado formed was still lopsided, but it was stronger and held stable for nearly half a minute before collapsing once. Kaito made an encouraging noise, and gestured for the other teen to try again.

(*You're turning into quite the teacher,*) Ichigo commented with amusement, as they both watched Sado run through the exercise a few more times. Each time, the shell remained a bit longer, was a bit less lopsided. It was encouraging progress.

Kaito gave a soundless huff of exasperation, and replied with wry amusement, ( _*I have a bit of an advantage here, having already been through this once.*_ )

The more Sado experimented, the more he got the hand of channeling his reiatsu without needing to activate his armor. Once the shell was fading away instead of imploding, Kaito nodded a bit and interrupted the teen before he could try again. "That's enough for now. You're getting the hang of, and a short break will help. Kurosaki-san, it's your turn."

"You know, you can call me Ichigo," Kurosaki told Kaito pointedly, as he accepted the Reishūkaku from Sado. He narrowed his eyes at Kaito, not even bothering to start his attempt, and continued, "I'm calling you Kaito, after all."

 _Shock-revulsion-_ _ **HATE**_ poured through Kaito's mind before he could completely tamp the irrational reaction down. He couldn't— he _wouldn_ _'t_ —

(*Kaito, hey!*) Ichigo cut in, before Kaito could do or say anything he truly regretted. (*He didn't mean to offend you. It's okay. It's okay. Just tell him you feel uncomfortable using your blade's name for anyone else, okay?*)

Kaito took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head to clear it of the lingering emotions that had reared up at Kurosaki's innocent offer. And it _had_ been innocent. Kurosaki didn't know about his past. Didn't know why Kaito would react so poorly to such an offer. He didn't deserve to face Kaito's misguided rage at something that _wasn_ _'t his fault._

The others were all eying him; Ishida with a piercing gaze, as if he were a puzzle the other needed to solve, Sado with consideration, Kurosaki in surprise and confusion, and Inoue with cheerful puzzlement.

(He couldn't help but feel that Inoue's mask was _better_ than his own. Seamless and unbroken no matter what she faced. Not cracked and easily shattered like his own.)

"No offense," Kaito forced out as cheerfully as he could manage, strangling the ugly emotions in a tight grip, "But one Ichigo in my life is more than enough."

He'd never expected Kurosaki to do that, to _offer_ his name like that. He and Ichigo had always kept to last names, to the fake distance it implied even after everything they had been through together. It kept them from being _too close_ , allowed them to say 'I'm doing this for myself, not for you, don't read anything into it'.

(They were both desperately independent. Desperately looking for companions who could match them. Who could understand them. Who _wouldn_ _'t abandon them_. Last names meant when the other _left_ it wouldn't _hurt as much_.)

(They had both been desperately lying to themselves the whole time.)

Kurosaki gave an attempt at a casual shrug, clearly trying to act as if Kaito's reaction hadn't been a shock, and said, "Well, offer's open anyway."

"Perhaps one day," Kaito reluctantly allowed, knowing exactly how persistent Kurosaki could be. And maybe… maybe someday it wouldn't feel like a betrayal, using Ichigo's name for this _other_ who was so akin to his Ichigo but _wasn_ _'t._

The teen flashed him a pleased smile, then returned to focusing on the Reishūkaku. It was obvious from the moment he started that, increased training aside, his control over his reiatsu remained as horrible as always.

Kaito allowed the other to try in peace for a few moments, before quietly moving back and scooping up the two spare orbs and tossing them to Ishida and Inoue. He made a shooing gesture towards a far corner, and watched as the three obeyed his directions and moved aside to continue their practice on their own.

Now that he had Kurosaki to himself, Kaito was unsure as to how he should proceed. Kurosaki's face was screwed up in concentration, but no reiatsu flickered around his fingers. Instead, Kaito could feel the buildup around the teen, undirected and dangerous, as Kurosaki tried to force power into the orb in his hands.

Not wanting to deal with Kurosaki nearly leveling the house by accident, Kaito reached out with his own power and channeled the rising reiatsu away. It flared to life around his body, swirls of brilliant gold lingering around his arms and wisping slowly away as he drew off more of the dangerous buildup before it could explode. The light show drew Kurosaki's attention to him, and the teen frowned in confusion.

"You were just calling up power and not directing it anywhere," Kaito explained.

Kurosaki scowled down at the orb in his hand. "How do I do it, then? I was trying what the others said, and what you suggested for Chad, but…"

"I've seen you use energy attacks with your blade. Do you remember the feeling of power gathering before you strike?"

"I… maybe?" Kurosaki responded hesitantly, glancing from Kaito and back down to the orb in his hands. "But I usually just… act."

(*One of my greatest strengths and worst weaknesses,*) Ichigo said with a huff. (*I do things by instinct, especially in the heat of battle. But outside of that…*)

Kaito hesitated a moment, before stepping closer to Kurosaki and reaching out to lay a gold-limned hand on the Reishūkaku right next to Kurosaki's. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then just close your eyes and _focus_. Try to follow what I'm doing," Kaito explained, as he gathered his nerves and settled in to lead this past version of his friend through the act of properly channeling reiatsu. He would have never dared to do this the first time through, not after burning himself so badly on Ichigo's reiatsu during that combat with the Menos. But this time… _this time_ he was powerful enough to handle it. Powerful enough to keep _both_ of them safe.

Carefully, Kaito reached out into Kurosaki's aura and drew out a thick thread of reiatsu, tugging it down Kurosaki's arm. "Do you feel this? Feel the way I'm moving your power?"

"It feels _weird_ ," Kurosaki complained, nose scrunching up as he fought to keep his eyes closed. "How are you even doing that?"

"It's part of my Quincy heritage," Kaito reluctantly explained, wanting the other to know that this was another thing he shouldn't mention casually to anyone. "Though I think some Shinigami can manipulate other's reiatsu as well."

Kurosaki gave up the battle and opened his eyes to consider Kaito for a moment, then looked down at the Reishūkaku between them. "So… Ishida could do this too?"

"Yes, though he would need very fine control on his part to keep from injuring himself with the strength of your reiatsu," Kaito cautioned. "Quincy usually rely on the already released power in the air, turning the traces of our opponent's attacks against them. Doing what I'm doing, directly connecting with your unreleased reiatsu and manipulating it, runs the risk of being overwhelmed if you flare it or try to force more into my grasp than I can handle."

Kurosaki's expression turned worried, and Kaito could feel the moment the other teen started to pull away from him.

"Enough," Kaito ordered, closing his free hand over one of Kurosaki's wrists and tightening his hold on the teen's reiatsu at the same time. "You'd need to be truly trying in order to overwhelm me. Your reiatsu is vast, and growing larger with every breakthrough you make, but it remains smaller than my own. And weaponizing it against me takes a finer control than you actually have in this moment."

"If you're certain," Kurosaki reluctantly agreed, as he stopped trying to pull away and allowed Kaito to continue what he was doing. "But I don't want you taking unnecessary risks."

"Unless you'd rather almost blow up the Shiba compound, I believe this is a completely necessary risk," Kaito replied airily. He tugged on Kurosaki's reiatsu to get the teen to focus, and gave a lopsided smile at the way Kurosaki grimaced at the sensation. "So just focus on this and on getting better control of your powers."

"Yeah, yeah, let's get this over with," Kurosaki grumbled, glowering down at the Reishūkaku and trying to concentrate.

Kaito huffed a laugh and resumed his lesson. He pulled Kurosaki's reiatsu down into the sphere, feeding their combined power into it so that the protective shell _snapped_ into existence around them, large and so thick it obscured their sight of the rest of the room due to the amount of power running through it.

"Woah!" Kurosaki's head jerked up, wide eyes staring between the shell around them and the brilliant orb cradled in their hands. He sent a cautious look at Kaito, then began to experiment with what he could sense when Kaito gave a nod of encouragement.

Content to allow Kurosaki to experiment as he wanted, Kaito settled back to maintain a light hold over their connection to the Reishūkaku, just in case. It felt… strangely nostalgic, like when he was young and his grandfather would guide his hands on the bow, allowing him to practice but keeping him from undue harm.

(*I never knew you could teach control like this,*) Ichigo said, reaching out through Kaito's own control in order to better understand what was going on. (*I wonder if we could use this to keep him from leaking reiatsu everywhere?*)

( _*I don_ _'t believe he enjoys the sensation,*_ ) Kaito replied with a touch of amusement. Not that he could blame Kurosaki in the slightest; there was a closeness invoke by this that Kaito wasn't entirely comfortable with either. It was one thing to have fragments of Kurosaki's reiatsu woven through his own — especially since he hadn't immediately noticed — and entirely another to practically manhandle this version of his friend.

"Enough for the moment. Let's reset the Reishūkaku, and this time I want you to try to reach it on you own," he said a few minutes later, feeling that Kurosaki had learned what he could from the first try.

At Kurosaki's determined nod, Kaito pulled their power free of the orb and untangled his reiatsu from the teen's, leaving Kurosaki to try on his own.

Kurosaki's next attempt was little better than his first. He couldn't _quite_ narrow his control down far enough to reach the Reishūkaku with just a tendril, and Kaito found himself once more discharging the excess reiatsu into the air around them. Golden power flared around his body, and Kaito had to hope that the Shiba compound was warded enough that he wasn't alerting everyone in the entire Seireitei that a powerful soul was here.

"Try again," Kaito encouraged Kurosaki when the teen made a frustrated noise and glowered at the visible reiatsu that was slowly wisping away. He reached out with his powers again and gathered up another thick thread of Kurosaki's reiatsu, giving a light mental tug in order to draw Kurosaki's attention to it. "Focus on directing this."

Agan and again, Kurosaki tried and failed, struggling to limit his control down to what Kaito kept showing him. Shed power swirled around the two of them, cocooning them in a shell of living gold, and yet Kaito barely felt any dimming of Kurosaki's reserves. In fact, he felt like he was drunk and drowning, lost in the ebb and flow of Kurosaki's reiatsu, and distantly wondered if this was how _others_ viewed _him_ when he released his control.

Still, an edge of caution had him considering calling for a break; his senses were turning numb from exposure, and it was becoming more likely that a mistake would happen that he could have prevented if only he could have _sensed it_.

Except, suddenly, the Reishūkaku lit up with a blazing display and a thick shell snapped in place around them at long last.

"Well done," Kaito told Kurosaki, pleased with the progress. "That's exactly it."

Kurosaki shot him a look so full of _pride_ and _happiness_ that Kaito had to glance away, overwhelmed by the gratitude inherent in it. He had never had such gratitude directed at him, not to this extent, and it left him feeling… tangled inside, confused and happy and proud all at once and he _didn_ _'t know what to do…_

Out of the corner of his eye, Kaito caught a flicker of Kurosaki's angry-scowl, before it smoothed back into the teen's pleased expression. Unsure of what that had been about, Kaito looked back at Kurosaki, only to find the teen looking up at the shell surrounding them.

"I think I know how to manage this now!" Kurosaki said as he looked back up and grinned at Kaito, too pleased with his achievement to keep his normal aloof expression in place.

The shell around them collapsed in a rush of power, and before Kaito could move to guide Kurosaki again, it flared back to life once more — a bit thinner, a bit smaller, and _definitely_ under Kurosaki's control.

( _*Once you get something, that_ _'s it, isn't it?*_ ) Kaito asked Ichigo, as Kurosaki continued to build and collapse the shell, each time with a bit more control than before. ( _*It_ _'s just getting there that troubles you.*_ )

(*You're like that too, you know,*) Ichigo pointed out.

Kaito shook his head slightly and let his hand drop from the Reishūkaku; he was good, but not quite so instinctive as Ichigo. Not that it really mattered; both of them needed to dedicate time to learning, it was just the stages of learning that differed between them.

Still, he couldn't help the small, proud smile, nor the tangled pride-awe-enjoyment that came from knowing _he_ had caused this. That it was his teaching that had brought Kurosaki to this point in his practice.

(Such a different feeling, pride untainted by self-disgust. Proof that he _could_ teach without torture.)

The next time the shell dropped, Kaito quickly stepped through and turned to look at the other three, confident that Kurosaki only needed to continue practicing. Inoue and Sado were both practicing with their Reishūkaku, seemingly having no difficulties, while Ishida was standing to one side and watching him with an unreadable expression.

"You're trailing gold," Ishida told him, as Kaito approached.

Kaito frowned, glanced down, and huffed a laugh at the way some of Kurosaki's reiatsu was still clinging to his body. It was a ridiculous sight, like someone had dumped tinsel all over him, with the way it shifted and shed as he moved.

"How are they?" Kaito asked Ishida with an absent nod towards the other two, as he carefully drew away the streamers of reiatsu and filtered them into his own core. At a glance, Inoue and Sado had the task down, but he wanted Ishida's opinion as well, given that the teen had been watching their practice and he had not.

"Inoue-san is quite good, and Sado-san no longer needs his armor activated in order to use the Reishūkaku," Ishida told him.

"How about time?"

Ishida hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "It can take them a few moments to call it up, sometimes, but neither of them seem to have any problems holding it for long stretches of time anymore."

Kaito absently played with a strand of Kurosaki's reiatsu, twisting the warm-familiar-comforting power between his fingers as he contemplated the teens in front of him. They were doing quite well, and either Ishida was being overly perfectionist — not out of the question, Kaito knew how he used to think — or Sado and Inoue were getting faster, because it wasn't more than a few seconds between the shell dropping and reforming around each of them.

A few more cycles of practice later, and Kaito was feeling confident that the others had learned what they needed to. Even Kurosaki was significantly better about it, and the shell he could form was clean and stable from the beginning.

"Alright!" Kaito clapped his hands together, absorbing the last thread of Kurosaki's lingering reiatsu with that action. "Enough for right now. It's time we stopped for dinner."

"You guys go on—"

"Kurosaki," Kaito interrupted, turned a sharp smile on the other, "if the next words out of your mouth are 'I'm going to stay here and practice', _I_ _'m_ going to kick your ass, drag you to dinner, and ban you from any further practice for the rest of the evening."

Kurosaki's mouth snapped shut, and he slowly set the Reishūkaku down on the floor and edged towards the doorway, keeping a wary gaze on Kaito as he did.

"Excellent. We'll all be returning after the meal, but I want everyone to eat and recharge as much as possible before we try to tackle the next thing I want us to learn."

Leaving the group in the dark about needing to mesh their reiatsu was a sure path straight to trouble, Kaito knew. That had been the direct cause of sending them scattering everywhere, and he wasn't going to allow that to happen this time.

With that said, he shooed them all back into the dining room and settled down to eat his meal in peace, plans darting through his mind. How could he handle this… how _would_ he handle this?

Perhaps sensing his distraction, the other teens kept to themselves, holding a quiet conversation that Kaito didn't bother keeping track of.

(*They keep glancing at us,*) Ichigo informed him.

( _*I_ _'m certain it's more of the talk from lunch,*_ ) Kaito said with amusement, after glancing up from his meal and meeting Ishida's steady gaze, only to have the other look away almost immediately. ( _*It_ _'s almost like goslings learning how to be dangerous.*_ )

Ichigo burst into laughter at the mental image, and then Shiro broke in with, ( ***Fuck, goslin** **'s? Y'sure they ain't tiger cubs, Koneko-kun?*** )

Kaito choked, trying to smother his mix of indignation and hilarity at Shiro's words.

"Kaito-san!" Inoue yelped, as she set her chopsticks down and leaned towards him, one hand raised slightly as if to call out her fairies. "Are you okay?"

He waved her concern off, grabbing for his glass of water and sipping at it around his coughing fit. When it finally settled, he gave her an embarrassed smile and said, "It's alright. I just swallowed something wrong, is all. I apologize for disturbing your conversation."

"Well, so long as you're sure," Inoue said with a cheerful smile. "I'm glad you're okay!"

(*Kurosaki and Ishida aren't buying it,*) Ichigo said once the teens had returned to their softly murmured conversation, this time with even more glancing over at Kaito.

( _*Yeah, because we were suspicious little shits who saw far too much. And Shiro, fuck off,*_ ) Kaito said, sending frustration towards the Hollow. Images of the four Karakura teens as tiny baby tigers kept playing through his head, and he _knew_ the damn being was the cause of it!

(Really, it was taking everything he had not to burst into laughter. Between the gangly Kurosaki-cub that kept tripping over its own paws and the equally gangly Ishida-cub that kept trying to ambush the Kurosaki-cub and failing… well, Kaito was sure he was going to bite through the inside of his lip from the force of suppressing his laughter.)

Instead, he forced himself to finish his meal, trying desperately to ignore the way the mental image kept expanding. From a hyperactive Inoue-cub scrambling all over a lounging tiger-version of himself, to the patient Sado-cub who managed to bowl both the Kurosaki-cub and Ishida-cub over with one pounce, it just kept on going.

Thankfully, the images settled down the minute he and the others were back within the training room and he had picked up one of the Reishūkaku in preparation for the next task. He wasn't sure he could have managed to concentrate well enough while still suppressing his laughter.

"We need to practice channeling our power together," Kaito explained to the waiting teens. He toyed with the Reishūkaku a bit, considering his options and the varying power levels of the five of them; Ganju he had very little worry about — the man had done well enough at keeping his reiatsu steady even while focusing elsewhere, it was just their own lack of ability that had destroyed their chances. Trying to balance all of them at once, though… that wasn't going to work. With a small nod to himself, Kaito tossed the orb in his hand to Ishida and continued, "I want you, Inoue-san, and Sado-san to practice together. Work to match your reiatsu output to one another; you'll know when it _isn_ _'t_ matched, and the three of you should have enough sensitivity to tell what needs to be done to correct it."

"And you?" Ishida asked, catching the orb with one hand and using the other to nudge his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Kurosaki-san and I are going to be practicing together for a bit," Kaito explained with a wry smile.

"Hey! I'm not _that_ bad anymore!"

Kaito shot Kurosaki an amused look and shook his head, "Who said it was entirely because of you, Kurosaki-san?"

Inoue and Sado traded looks, then Sado nodded at Kaito and said, "We'll practice."

"Uh-huh!" Inoue agreed with a chirp. She turned to Ishida and shooed the surprised teen towards the furthest corner, calling over her shoulder as she did, "We'll get so good, you won't find a seam!"

Those two, Kaito realized with a start, understood his need for this better than Ishida and Kurosaki did. He had crushed them under his partially unrestrained strength, giving them a glimpse into his being that the other two didn't have. Even in bankai he had kept himself as restrained as possible, wanting, _needing_ , to keep himself in control.

(Could anyone beyond the Captains contain him at this point if he just… let go? What would happen?)

Shaking those thoughts from his head, Kaito knelt to scoop up a second Reishūkaku and began to move towards the opposite corner. Kurosaki trailed after him like a kitten, all curiosity and interest and stubborn pride.

"I have incredible control for my age and the amount of power at my disposal," Kaito offered as an explanation, just as he offered the Reishūkaku for Kurosaki to place his hands on again. "But my reserves are enough to dwarf those three _combined_ , and even you are only just starting to compare."

"Huh." Kurosaki set his hands opposite Kaito's, gaze steady and piercing. He continued almost casually," So, how old are you, anyway?"

Kaito laughed, struck by the absurdity of the question. His cover didn't have a defined age, but by timelines he would need to be over a century old —

(Sometimes he felt every one of those decades he had never lived.)

— and he was sure that had been hinted at around Kurosaki at some point. Still, it was best not to outright lie. "Older than you, and that's all that matters."

(*By like, a month! And only because you came back before my birthday,*) Ichigo protested, laughter in his voice.

( _*But did I lie?*_ ) Kaito asked with just as much amusement, before speaking aloud in order to distract Kurosaki away from any further questions. "Come on, let's get practicing. Try to match me as best you can — we'll be aiming for minimal output, but the biggest hurdle will be synchronizing our power and then remaining in sync."

Kurosaki gave a determined nod, and poured his own power into the Reishūkaku as Kaito did. The shell that formed around them wavered and twisted, destabilized by the uneven flows, on the verge of collapse with every breath they took.

Kaito's eyes slid partially closed, concentration rising as he reached out to match Kurosaki's input and stabilize themselves. It was much too high for anyone but a Captain to match, but it was a _start._

"Try to keep up with me," Kaito murmured, focus fixed on the mental representation of their powers.

Slowly, every so slowly, he gentled his output and waited for Kurosaki to match him again. It was difficult, dealing with such wild, untamed power; Kurosaki had no practice at restraining himself, and his power was like an untrained dog in response, wandering this way and that, racing about and surging without the least bit of warning. And the further they lowered their output, the worse it became.

Not just for Kurosaki, but for him, too. His power started to eel free from his grip, as difficult to grasp as a piece of invisible thread.

It finally slipped his control, exploding outward in a rush of unrestrained power that he struggled to rein in before it could harm anyone. Kurosaki yelped, drawing back and shielding his face with an arm out of instinct, then made a noise of pain when the Reishūkaku lit up like a miniature sun in Kaito's hands and an opaque shell formed around them.

"Shit," Kaito muttered, eyes squeezed shut against the light. Draining the Reishūkaku was a slow process with how much reiatsu he had shoved into it in his desperation, but he finally managed to collapse the shell and the dim the light.

"Again, then?" Kurosaki offered, as he stepped back to his place and settled his hands one more on the orb.

"Yeah," Kaito agreed. "Once more."

It was easier this time, as they settled into a comfortable stability just below Captain-level. Easier to keep pace as they lowered their output. Easier to know the edge of danger.

But they couldn't go _lower_ , Kaito realized with frustration. The more they practiced, the more times they wavered on that edge of Kaito losing control, the more that edge _didn_ _'t budge_. Kurosaki's power gentled to his control, changing from wild beast to tamed partner, but Kaito's continued to slip from his grasp, continued to force him to scramble for control.

Between one attempt and the next, Kaito huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose with a hand, praying for patience. For control. For _anything_.

(*Should we… try together?*) Ichigo tentatively offered in the face of Kaito's growing frustration and rage.

"We could stop?" Kurosaki offered at the same time, only to step back and raise his hands in surrender when Kaito growled at him. "Or not. Just offering."

( _*We might as well,_ *) Kaito admitted with a frown, as he set his hand back on the Reishūkaku and stared pointedly at Kurosaki, waiting for the teen to return to his spot. ( _*I doubt it could make anything worse, in any case.*_ )

(*Don't tempt fate,*) Ichigo said.

And suddenly there was _less,_ except at the same time _not._ Ichigo was there, a comforting presence just below the surface, and he was holding back their strength. Kaito could still feel it, could still manipulate it within his body, but it was… contained. Limited to his body instead of trying to spill free.

Kaito breathed out. In. Began to channel his reiatsu once more.

It was a struggle, working alongside Ichigo to find that comfortable point where they weren't stepping on each other's metaphorical toes. Ichigo wasn't being delicate; everything their body could contain was _being_ contained, and it left Kaito reaching for what remained like a child reaching for a single strand of hair.

But finally — _finally!_ — it clicked. The Reishūkaku flickered to life under his hands, then blazed brighter as Kurosaki poured in his own reiatsu then reined it in until they were in sync. They remained there for a moment, on the edge of where Kaito had been previously struggling, surrounded by a stable, thick shell.

Kaito frowned down at the Reishūkaku and probed what he could with his senses. With Ichigo acting as a shackle, he had access to barely half the reiatsu he had grown accustomed to and yet… and yet he was still struggling. Still barely retaining his control.

He kept grabbing for power that wasn't there, which allowed what he had managed to grasp to eel free. It was easier when the power wasn't part of him, wasn't so close to instinctive that he had to consciously pay attention to what he was doing. Compared to the other teens his control was _astonishing_ , but compared to his father? To his sensei?

He would need to increase his training.

"Lower," Kaito ordered, glancing up from the Reishūkaku to look at Kurosaki. "I think I have a handle on it this time."

There was a flicker of suspicion in Kurosaki's gaze, before he clenched his jaw and nodded sharply in agreement. Whatever the other had noticed, at least he wasn't going to bring it up just yet. Kaito could hope the other never brought it up, but he wasn't likely to get that reprieve.

Whatever dots Kurosaki was connecting, the teen wasn't likely to remain silent forever. Between his reaction to the offer of Kurosaki's first name, the history he had told the teen, and now this sudden, sharp increase in skill level, the only reprieve Kaito could hope for was that Kurosaki would wait until they were once more safely at home.

But it wasn't worth worrying about. Not when they had such limited time.

Kaito shook his head and refocused on the task at hand, refining his control alongside Ichigo in order to lower their output further. Kurosaki matched them all the way down, a frown of concentration on his face as they reached Lieutenant level, growing more pronounced the lower they brought their output.

Just below Lieutenant level, their control began to waver once more, this time matched by Kurosaki's own fluctuating control.

(*I don't think we'll be able to get either of us any lower,*) Ichigo said thoughtfully, absently playing with his own control and making Kaito struggle to keep up in order to maintain a level output. (*Can you feel the way he's wavering?*)

It was true; Kurosaki had small beads of sweat trickling down his face, and an expression of concentration that Kaito was well familiar with. The teen was at the edge of his abilities, and doing his best to keep it under control.

That it had taken both Kaito and Ichigo working together to bring themselves down to Kurosaki's lower limit was both frustrating and illuminating; it highlighted their growth, the heights to which they had reached, but it also highlighted the sheer immensity of the task before them.

Kaito pushed himself and Kurosaki to the limit of their control, then allowed the shell of power to fade away, much to Kurosaki's relief. From there, it was only a single, challenging look between the two of them that had them trying again. And again, and again, and again. Until exhaustion began to pull on their minds and made their bodies tremble.

They couldn't reduce their output much further, not in the time they had available. A single evening of forced exercise did nothing except allow them a better grasp on the control they _did_ have, allowing them to easily synchronize and hold their output steady. Anything more would take time.

Hopefully it would be enough.

The next time the shell dropped, Kaito shook his head and pulled back from the Reishūkaku. He turned his attention to the others, eyes narrowing at the sight of Ganju chatting loadly and boastfully to the other three teens.

Before he realized what he was doing, he was across the room and next to Ganju, arms crossed over his chest and clearing his throat loudly to get the man's attention.

"Yaah!" Ganju leapt back and glowered at Kaito for a moment, before his gaze suddenly widened and he took a stance to point dramatically at Kaito. "You! My sister warned me you were coming!"

"Ganju," Kaito said coolly, pushing the hand away from his face and shaking his head in exasperation. "I take it you're the one Kukaku-san is sending with us?"

"Of course!" Ganju boasted, his chest puffing up as he tried to look intimidating. "So you gotta listen to everything I say!"

Kaito caught sight of the other four teens exchanging incredulous looks, and knew exactly how they felt. Ganju was just so… out there. Full of energy and utterly unashamed of himself. As far as Kaito knew, only Kukaku could really keep this energetic man reined in, and even them it only really worked when she was around.

(*But he still helped me reach my reiatsu. And… I think I remember him studying all that night in order to memorize what he needed to do to get us into Seireitei,*) Ichigo said wistfully, thinking back on the time they spent here.

( _*For a man who hates Shinigami, he was surprisingly helpful.*_ ) Kaito considered Ganju for a moment, then gave the man a sharp smile, feeling no shame at what he was about to say next. "Only when what you say makes sense. Or do I need to get Kukaku-san involved again?"

"Tch, cheap shot," Ganju grumbled, glancing warily at the door into the training room before huffing and focusing back on Kaito. "So, you idiots are breaking in Seireitei, huh? With a kami-damned Shinigami at your side."

"Substitute Shinigami!" Kurosaki barked back, drawing himself up and glaring at Ganju with narrowed eyes. "Got a problem with that?"

"Yeah I got a problem with that!" Ganju shouted, stalking past Kaito and up to Kurosaki. "You fucking Shinigami think you're entitled to _anything_ you fucking want. From that blond bastard over there straight on down to _you_. Barging into our lives and demanding shit and thinking you're all that!"

"We're not barging into anything!" Kurosaki glared right back at Ganju, fists clenching. "We're here to save our friend, and Kukaku agreed to help us do that."

Ganju snorted and cast his gaze over the group, taking in the five of them before refocusing on Kurosaki. "Your friend, huh? So, what, you promise to save them or something?"

"No." Kurosaki tilted his chin up, arms folded over his chest and stance stubborn. "She saved my life, gave up her powers to a complete stranger so that I could save my family, and now she's being punished for it. So I'm going to repay her by saving hers."

"That's what friends do!" Inoue added cheerfully, grinning up at Ganju when he turned to look at her. "We're friends with Kurosaki-kun _and_ Rukia-chan, so we're helping both!"

"She helped me protect someone," Sado agreed.

Ishida just huffed softly when everyone looked at him and pushed his glasses up. "Don't look at me, I barely knew her."

"Then what, you're here for money? Fame?" Ganju looked confused, his gaze shifting between the three outspoken teenagers and then back to Ishida.

"Hardly," Ishida scoffed and shook his head. "Your money's worthless in the Human World, after all, and why would I care what some Shinigami thought of me? I'm here for the challenge of it."

"He's here," Kaito broke in, smirking at Ishida in a way that made the teen pale slightly, "because he's Kurosaki's friend even if he refuses to admit it."

"Sensei!" Ishida squawked, composure lost.

Kaito grinned at Ishida, pleased that his past self had merely protested at being revealed, not the revelation itself. Not that it was that much of a surprise to anyone but Ganju, who didn't actually know them; Ishida might not have ever said anything about friendship, but his actions spoke a lot louder than his lack of words.

Ganju shook his head, confusion writ large across his expression, and turned to Kaito to say, "All of you? Seriously?"

"I'm here to make sure these four don't get into too much trouble," Kaito deflected the question with amusement, disinclined to claim something he wasn't sure was true.

"And because you're our friend!" Inoue added.

He inclined his head to Inoue, masking the flicker of doubt her words brought on with a cheerful, amused smile at having his own words turned back on him. Was he their friend, truly? After everything he had done to her, to Sado, to _Ishida_ , friendship seemed like an empty dream.

(How could she stand to say that, with his hands drenched in their blood?)

Before any of them could read anything into his silence, Kaito took the Reishūkaku from Kurosaki and gestured for the teens to gather around him. Ganju, thankfully, backed away without prompting, leaving the five of them to their own devices.

Kaito studied Ishida thoughtfully, running plans and outcomes through his mind as best he could. It would be difficult for Sado and Inoue to match Kurosaki and him, especially for the length of time the journey between the Shiba compound and Seireitei would take.

"What do you need?" Ishida asked after a moment of strained silence, voice a touch wary but sounding willing enough.

"You're going to need to be the bridge between us," Kaito said, indicating first himself and Kurosaki and then Inoue and Sado. "We don't have time for the two of us to gain the sort of control we actually need. Your heritage should allow you to balance us."

Kurosaki inhaled sharply and looked between them, an edge of panic creeping into his reiatsu and expression. The other three looked puzzled, confused at how poorly Kurosaki had taken the suggestion, and looked expectantly to Kaito for an explanation.

"Our other options are even less palatable," Kaito told Kurosaki darkly. He wasn't even exaggerating; it was a miracle that last time the worst that had occurred was they were split up. "Unless you like the idea of causing harm to all of them? No. Keep your output steady and your mind calm. I have confidence in Ishida-kun."

Kurosaki grimaced, then reluctantly nodded in agreement. "Fine."

Kaito shrugged awkwardly, unwilling to argue further about something he couldn't see a way around, and held out the Reishūkaku to the others. "Let's start simply. Ishida-kun, let's practice balancing myself and Sado-san, then add Kurosaki-san and Inoue-san into the mix once you get the hang of it."

Ishida nodded and stepped forward, shoulders back and posture steady as he set his hands on the Reishūkaku and prepared to channel his power into it.

"Ready?" Kaito asked Sado and Ishida, then exhaled heavily as they both nodded. "Very well."

The Reishūkaku lit with flickering life a moment later.

Hopefully Ishida could keep up.

* * *

Kaito knelt next to the futon he'd been provided, exhaustion a heavy weight pressed upon every inch of his body. The training had gone well, he felt; they were working as a cohesive whole, and Ishida had quickly learned how to keep the five of them in a stable balance.

It would have to be enough. It would have to be.

(There was no time left. No way to fix any mistakes. They were on their own.)

He sighed, dragging his bag over to his side and unzipping it to dig out clothing for the next day. But instead of the expected kimono, his hand encountered something else.

A familiar striped bucket hat sat nestled amongst his supplies, slightly crumpled from being shoved hastily into the bag. He… he didn't recall adding that. Had, in fact, not seen that ridiculous blue-and-white hat since he'd returned it to his father. And now it sat amongst his supplies.

A small note fluttered to the floor as he pulled the hat free, followed by the blue fan as the movement dislodged it from inside the hat.

"I thought," Kaito spoke to the empty room, even as he flipped the note over to see 'For luck!' scrawled across it in Urahara's handwriting, complete with a little doodle of the man holding his fingers out in a victory sign. "I thought that the idea was to stay unnoticed."

He stared at the hat and fan for a moment, eyes narrowed and emotions a contradictory swirl. He wasn't a mini-me to that dratted man ( _he wasn_ _'t!_ ), no matter how he looked in the jinbei Urahara had bought him. He was thoroughly unimpressed, with no desire to imitate the adults around him; he was no kid to play dress up, not anymore.

( _He wasn_ _'t. He didn't want to be like Ryuuken, and hadn't for years and years. Just because Urahara was nice to him… it didn't mean he wanted to copy the man._ )

( _He wore the jinbei because they were comfortable. Because they fit the persona he needed to build. Not for any other reason._ )

On the other hand…

He _was_ very akin to the man. From his coloring to his posture, Kaito had to acknowledge that he truly _looked_ the part of Urahara Kaito, son of the exiled genius Urahara Kisuke. It was a calculated thing, intended to separate himself from Ishida Uryuu, but here in Soul Society, in the heart of the Shinigami stronghold, that resemblance would only harm him.

"I'm hardly going to hide forever," Kaito murmured, as he fiddled with the hat and tried to consider all the potential angles the way Urahara would. "My reiatsu signature will give me away to anyone who knew father, and for those who don't… do they know what he looks like now? Or… or just how he looked before he escaped? If they even know at all."

(*Did he even wear a hat like this before he left? The Shinigami're pretty old-fashioned,*) Ichigo wondered, thinking back to the fashions they'd seen from the Shinigami, before continuing, (*And I don't think Rukia knew who Hat'n'Clogs was, so…*)

( _*So it's unlikely the lower ranks will know of him except by old images or descriptions, if at all. And for the ones who did know him, appearance won't do a damn thing to hide who I'm related to,*_ ) Kaito concluded. He set the hat down next to his knee and reached back into the pack, wondering if his father had shoved anything else in there while he wasn't looking.

He didn't need to dig far. In the process of pulling out a dark blue kimono for the next day, a crumpled dark _green_ piece of fabric came out as well. Curious, Kaito set aside the kimono and reached in to grab the other item, inhaling sharply as his father's _coat_ unfolded in his hands. Urahara's reiatsu _hummed_ under his fingers, a barely-there pulse of power that felt like it was woven into the fabric itself.

"Really, father?" Kaito wondered at the reasoning, at the _why_ behind such an inclusion in his pack. It didn't make _sense_ to him, and no matter how he turned or shook the coat in an attempt to make another note flutter free, there was nothing. His father must have been wearing a new coat when he sent them off, because this one… Kaito fiddled with a frayed edge, taking in the signs of age and use that stood out even in the dim light of the room: thinning fabric and fragile stitching and tiny holes and so many other signs over the entire piece.

It didn't make any _sense_. Why send him off with something like this? The hat and fan, fine — Urahara seemed amused with Kaito's preference for blues and had apparently decided to make him a color-swapped mini-me — but the old coat? Why not a blue version, if Urahara was that interested in making them look identical?

With a sigh, Kaito carefully folded the coat and set it next to the hat, resuming his digging into his pack in search of any other last minute inclusions. It didn't really seem like there was anything else, but Kaito wasn't willing to dump out his entire pack to be sure. Not this late at night, not when everything else had been relatively obvious and near the top.

He'd deal with it all tomorrow, when he wasn't exhausted. For now… he really just wanted to sleep.

* * *

Kaito rolled. Lunged. Tried to call his bow. Pain seared across his left arm, hand ( _gone-lost-severed_ ) agony — he was alone. Alone and helpless and—

( ***Koneko!** **'Ey, idiot, snap outta it!*** )

The world… steadied. There was no moon overhead. No rock beneath his legs. No crying Inoue or emotionless Hollow. He was… he was safe. In Soul Society.

( _He was never safe. He was alone and in enemy territory and if he screwed up he was_ _ **dead**_ _and_ _—_ )

"Can't believe I'm fuckin' doin' this shit," Kaito distantly heard himself say. Cloth settled over his shoulders, his hands tugging Urahara's coat over his shoulders like a blanket. "Why th'fuck do I gotta be th'one awake? Aibo'd be so much fuckin' better at this."

His body moved without his input, back pressing against the wall as he settled into the corner. Urahara's faint reiatsu sunk into his senses, steady and reassuring even though the man wasn't _there_.

( ***C** **'mon, Koneko. S'jes a damn nightmare. Ain't no fuckers 'round t'kill right now,*** ) Shiro attempted to reassure him.

Kaito huddled into the coat, drawing his knees up to his chest and trying to focus on something, anything other than the fear that made his heart beat too fast and his limbs tremble. Shiro's muttered litany of attempted reassurance — filled with threats and promises of revenge on those who'd hurt them and sometimes more invectives than actual meaningful words — helped to drown out the images that continued to replay in his mind, grounding him in the present.

With every steady breath his body took—

( _why was it steady, he was panicking, he knew how this worked, this wasn_ _'t how it worked, he could never focus, trapped in swirling memories and pain-hurt-HATE and breathing was so difficult and he couldn't_ _ **focus**_ _and Shiro just kept talking and rambling and it wasn_ _'t Ichigo but it was part of Ichigo and Shiro cared even if he said he didn't and was the other actually_ _ **forcing**_ _him to breathe? Was that why there was no edge of panic from lack of air, no fear of passing out making his throat tighten and his breathing more erratic than it already was just from the trapped-helpless-terrified feeling of panic and waking from a nightmare of_ _ **that**_ _day_ )

—with every breath he could feel the adrenaline flushing from his body, leaving his limbs trembling with a different reaction.

( ***Better?*** )

( _*I_ _… yes.*_ ) Kaito slowly uncurled, shifting Urahara's coat to settle across his shoulders instead of around him like a blanket. He stared blankly at his trembling hands ( _two hands, two, not one_ ) and wondered at the time. How long had he spent asleep, how long trapped in his own mind from the terror of a nightmare, how long, how long, how long…

His hands reached out. Shiro and Ichigo's blades a comforting weight as they materialized in his grip and were settled across his lap. He recognized the posture for jinzen, and rested his hands atop the twin blades in thoughtful consideration. Sleep would elude him for the rest of the night. Urahara wasn't around to distract him.

Shiro's offer was entirely like the pale spirit. A chance to fight, to burn the terror from his blood with the distraction of a ( _safe, controlled_ ) battle.

( ***Ya comin** **' in, Koneko?*** ) Shiro asked him, when they'd sat in silence for a few long moments.

Kaito exhaled. Tugged Urahara's coat a bit tighter over his shoulders. Rested his hand back on Shiro's pale blade. ( _*Yeah.*_ )

He dove into jinzen without a second thought.

* * *

Okay, so this did not go quite to plan in terms of release schedule, but to be fair to me, my life really didn't go to plan EITHER, so... between an unexpected death in the family, and two cases of all-hands-on-deck emergencies at work, I've been swinging a bit between depression and outright exhaustion. And then this chapter just really, really wanted to fight me tooth and nail. Ah well, it's done now, and next chapter should start the chaos of the invasion.

Quick reminder that I'm over on tumblr with the same username as here, and I keep my followers relatively up to date on what's going on in my life, along with the occasional drabble or short story that doesn't get uploaded to ffnet or AO3.


	19. Invade Confuse Prank?

"Kaito!"

He snapped back to reality with a startling abruptness, abandoning his usual slow return from jinzen in the face of Inoue's fearful cry. Confused and disoriented, he stared at Inoue and then glanced around the room, searching for whatever had made her react like that. But there was nothing visible; just the four teens staring at him in varying levels of disbelief and shock.

"Wha—"

"You're bleeding!" Inoue shuffled closer to him on her knees, hands coming up and her golden shield snapping into being around his body.

Kaito stared at her, trying to get his brain to process her worry and fear, then glanced down at his body. Blood had seeped into his clothing, staining the deep blue sleepwear in scattered patches, but it really wasn't much. Shiro had gone easy on him, so the wounds that had transferred barely even registered in his mind; jinzen always left wounds—

Oh. Jinzen.

He'd never explained jinzen, had he.

Kaito cleared his throat, pulling the attention of the four teens away from his healing wounds. "It's nothing to worry about—"

"Nothing to worry about?" Inoue glared at him hard enough that he raised his hands in a placating gesture. "You're bleeding and you consider this nothing to worry about?"

Kaito sighed and ran a hand through his hair, grimacing a bit at the feel of it. A nightmare, panic attack, and a night spent in jinzen had left him wrung out and feeling disgusting; hopefully Kukaku would be kind enough to allow him time to clean up, before sending them off to storm Seireitei.

But for right now, he needed to figure out how to calm the other teens down; Kurosaki and Ishida were giving him _looks_ that he didn't understand, and Sado's thoughtful gaze made Kaito want to fidget. So he gave them his best cheerful smile, and said, "Let me explain before you keep jumping to conclusions? I was practicing jinzen, which is an advanced method of communicating with my zanpakutou. It brings the inner and outer worlds into a closer sync than usual, which means that injuries I sustained in combat in my inner world appeared on my physical body."

Kurosaki made a face at his explanation and shook his head. "All Shinigami do this?"

"Yes," Kaito agreed, patting the hilt of Shiro's blade absently. "A soul with a zanpakutou needs to remain on good terms with their blade. A zanpakutou is more than just a weapon, after all. It's a part of _me_ , an extension of myself that I rely upon to see me through combat. I'm not _helpless_ without my blades, but I am certainly lesser."

Just like he had been lesser after he lost his ability to use his reiatsu; he still had enough tricks up his sleeves to survive, but it was difficult. Surviving with just his reiatsu, and no weapons at all, would be doable but… not something he wanted to experience.

Shiro was grumbling in the back of his mind, annoyed and frustrated at the interruption. They hadn't been in the middle of combat, but they _had_ been trying to work out a few new moves together. The Getsuga Tenshou was powerful, and destructive, but… it wasn't him. It was Ichigo's skill, from Ichigo's blade, and Kaito had been restricting himself from using it in this new time.

(He remembered how strange they had found it, when Kurosaki-sensei had used a Getsuga Tenshou while fighting Aizen. How strange it was to reconcile sharing an attack with Kurosaki-sensei, when everything else they had seen hinted at zanpakutou being unique to their wielders.)

"There, all better!" Inoue declared, sitting back and allowing her healing shield to fall away. She gave him a _look_ , all sad eyes and determined smile, and said, "And if you ever do that again, I want you to tell me so I can heal you."

Kaito bit back his confusion and gave her a smile instead. "I usually ask Tsukabishi-san, or relax in the healing spring in the training ground, but if you're around, of course I will."

(Why did she care so much? After what he'd done to her, she still reached out to him like this.)

(Inoue's heart was far too large for the world she was being dragged into.)

He shook his head slightly and shooed the four teens away enough that he could stretch his legs and brace himself against the wall for support as he went to stand. His legs were half-asleep, and Kaito couldn't help the wince he gave as his right leg almost gave way.

Inoue made a noise of concern and moved closer once more, hands out to either catch him or bring her shield back once more, Kaito wasn't certain.

"I'm fine. My legs are just a bit numb," he told her. He rubbed at his thigh for a moment, grimacing at the pins and needles sensation, then straightened up fully and shot the teens a look that had them finally retreating enough that he could breathe more easily. Once he was sure of his balance — and that his legs wouldn't give out under him — Kaito stepped out of the corner Shiro had tucked him into the night before and stretched.

"Are you… wearing Hat'n'Clog's coat?" Kurosaki asked, voice strangled.

Kaito shot Kurosaki a mischievous smile, and slipped his arms through the sleeves of the dark green haori, reveling in the sensation of his father's reiatsu so close at hand. He stepped around Kurosaki and bent to retrieve the hat and fan, giving the incredulous teens a playful wink as he set the hat atop his head. "Just a final bit of disguise is all!"

"Disguise?!" Ishida burst out, staring with wide, horrified eyes. "That's not a disguise! That's you looking like a copy of Urahara-san!"

"Ara, ara, no need to be so offended by that," Kaito said with a pout, fiddling with the closed fan as he did. He wasn't trying to be an exact copy of his father — that would just be creepy — but it was nice to have something in his hand to fidget with. Maybe that was why Urahara carried it around?

"I thought you wanted to hide!" Ishida continued in frustration, before turning to Kurosaki. "Kurosaki! Talk some damn sense into him!"

Kaito tilted his head back and laughed, tucking the fan away in his sleeve and then using his freed hand to pull his hat down a bit more firmly on his head. "You're all so easy to tease. Please, how many Shinigami do you think actually know what my father looks like these days?"

That drew all of them up short, and Kaito watched the looks pass between the four teens for a moment, before smirking and inclining his head. "Exactly. The rank and file will be more likely to recognize me _without_ the hat than with. I do look a lot like my father, after all, and being able to hide my hair color will help at least some. And I doubt my father wore anything like this back when he was part of the Gotei Thirteen."

"You're right, he didn't," Yoruichi chimed in before any of the others could make another argument. She sauntered up to them, tail proudly bannered and gaze amused as she took in his appearance. "I didn't realize you had packed that, though."

Kaito narrowed his eyes at her, wondering exactly where she had been hiding. The mischievous smirk she shot him made his stomach sink; whatever she had been doing, it was something that Urahara would _love_ and Kaito himself would _hate._ Which left a lot of leeway, unfortunately. "You went through my bag… when, exactly?"

Yoruichi's ears and whiskers swiveled forward and her tail tip twitched, all signs of amusement and mischief that Kaito had learned to read during his time training with her. Whatever she had done, Kaito wasn't looking forward to finding out.

"What, no trust for lil' ol' me?" she asked.

"Not when you have that expression on your face." Kaito bent over to scoop her up into his arms, grabbing his bag at the same time and slinging it over one shoulder before he stood back up. "But I'll let it go. For now."

Yoruichi gave him her most innocent cat-smile, and climbed atop his shoulders. "You wound me terribly. Come, steed, away to Kukaku, so I can complain about your unjust mistrust of my person."

Kaito couldn't help the amused noise that escaped him at Yoruichi's demand, but gave in without a fight. She was giving him a way out, he knew, and whatever she had done wasn't something he had to worry about right this moment.

Without a backwards glance, Kaito strode out of the room, leaving the other teens to scramble after him. He'd direct them to breakfast, find Kukaku, and get ready as best he could for the day that was to come.

(And if he clung a bit more tightly than he should to the worn fabric of Urahara's coat, Yoruichi was the only one in a position to notice.)

(And she would never tell.)

* * *

The early morning passed in a blur of getting ready, and before Kaito knew it, he was standing outside and staring up at the giant cannon as it rose slowly from beneath the ground. This was it. This was the moment where everything had truly begun to go downhill for them. They instant they had been separated and went their own way, Aizen had won.

Kaito barely restrained himself from clinging to Yoruichi in desperation. He couldn't — he _wouldn't_ — allow that to happen this time. The teens were going to stay together. He would break away and draw attention. Everything would work out.

It had to.

 _It had to._

(He didn't know what he would do if nothing changed. If everything continued the way he remembered.)

Yoruichi twisted around in his grip and nosed at his chin, pulling him from his contemplation of the future. She gave him a knowing look, but otherwise said nothing.

"Let's get this show on the road!" Kukaku announced, her arm sweeping out to encompass the group. "Seireitei dropped their walls last night, so the sekkiseki barrier is in place and fully powered up. I hope you kiddies studied well!"

Kurosaki huffed and gave Kukaku an exasperated look. "Of course we did. Kaito wouldn't let us do anything _but_."

"Good," Kukaku said firmly. She bent to scoop up the Reishūkaku at her feet, then tossed it gently — for her — to Kurosaki. "You'll need it. This is one of the dumbest plans I've ever been witness to, and I grew up with that menace," she pointed at Yoruichi, then shifted her finger to point at Kaito, "and _his_ father. I thought I was done being shocked by what Yoruichi can get up to with an Urahara."

"You were complicit with everything we did," Yoruichi returned with a haughty sniff.

Kukaku roared with laughter. "Still am! Guess I'm just not one for the quiet life. Well, come on kiddies, you're burning daylight and Seireitei is confusing enough when it's light out." She gestured for them to approach, then directed them into place and closed the cannon behind them.

In the semi-darkness, the seven of them gathered around the Reishūkaku — with Yoruichi hopping free of Kaito's arms and balancing atop it — and began to feed their power into it. The Reishūkaku lit up, bathing them in a brilliant golden light, and the protective shell snapped into existence around them.

Already Ishida was acting to balance their powers, and Kaito could tell that Yoruichi was assisting him. Whenever Ishida's grasp faltered and failed enough for rough edges to begin to show, Yoruichi's power slipped in and smoothed it over once more, letting the teen regain control. And from Ishida's grateful look, he knew what Yoruichi was doing for him.

Kaito wondered, even as he and Ichigo worked in concert to keep their reiatsu output steady, if Yoruichi had done the same in their timeline. It was certainly possible, given the way he could barely sense her interference even now. Her reiatsu was like a shadow, there but entirely weightless as it nudged and soothed and manipulated. In _this_ pool of reiatsu, where everything was already almost stable, her efforts stood out like a whisper of a breeze on a still day.

In the maelstrom that their own timeline's pool had been, would he have been able to sense her influence at all?

He really didn't think so.

(*Think we're about to get moving,*) Ichigo murmured, drawing Kaito's attention from the reiatsu and back towards the others. He could sense Kukaku's reiatsu rising sharply, tinged with the _heat-flame-steel_ sensation of the kido she was forming. Nearby, Ganju's own reiatsu was coiling in anticipation, laser-focused and with the barest edge of _worry-dislike-resolve_ that hinted at his true feelings about this whole adventure.

Kukaku's reiatsu rose, spiked, then blossomed into a rush of _heat-flame-steel_ that engulfed all of them as the cannon _fired._

"Oh!" Inoue breathed out, as she glanced down and took in the ground racing by under their feet. Her reiatsu wavered with her shock, and Ishida scrambled to keep it balanced.

"Keep your output steady," Ganju told them brusquely, with a sharp look at Inoue.

She blushed and dutifully brought herself back under control, but continued to cast glances at the world below. Her fascination was clear on her face, gaze darting from side to side to take it all in, but she didn't lose control of her reiatsu again.

Ganju huffed, freed one hand from the Reishūkaku, flicked open his scroll, and began to read. The words carried power, and Kaito could feel the way the Reishūkaku soaked them up, but nothing beyond that. Whether or not Ganju was managing to control everything correctly, the die had been cast.

It was all in Ganju's hands, and he could do nothing but keep his output stable and pray that all the training had paid off, even as the barrier loomed closer and closer.

They crashed into it like a mallet against a gong, and Kaito felt it in his very soul. The reverberations jarred his control and for one brief, heart-stopping moment all that went through his mind was ( _No, no, not this again, not after everything, all the practice and training and trials and_ _ **everything.**_ _No, please no, please don't…_ )

Ichigo clamped down on their control. The other teens kept their heads.

Suddenly, they were through.

They were _through_.

They were through, they were descending into Seireitei, and they were _together._

Together in the midst of enemy territory. They were enemies invading the stronghold of beings with centuries upon centuries of experience, Aizen was lurking around the edges, and he could rely on no one and nothing to give them safe haven this early in the timeline.

(Kuchiki Byakuya wasn't a sympathetic-but-stoic ally. Unohana Retsu was nothing more than a terrifying medic. Even Kenpachi cared nothing about them at this point, and _he_ had flipped allegiances in the middle of the invasion last time just because Ichigo had beaten him!)

"We're through!" Inoue cheered, as their cannonball crashed into a wall and they landed on their feet, unscathed and well.

"Don't be too quick to celebrate," Yoruichi warned them, as she hopped atop the wall and scanned the surrounding area. "That was the easy bit."

Kurosaki and Ishida exchanged wary looks, no doubt remembering all the training Kaito had put them through the day before and wondering at it. That Yoruichi would call that the 'easy bit' was clearly not sitting well with either of them.

Realization was beginning to dawn, Kaito mused. It hadn't fully sunk in yet — and likely wouldn't for a while — but it was beginning to. And he hoped that when it _did_ sink in, it wasn't like it had been for him.

But that was for the future. For now, he needed to get moving.

Kaito bent to scoop up the Reishūkaku and tucked it away in his bag. He didn't know if he would need it later on or not, but better to take it and not need it than to leave it behind for one of the enemy to get their hands on later.

"Sensei, will you lead them to safety?" Kaito asked when he straightened up.

She eyed him for a moment, something dark and dangerous in her gaze, before nodding her head slowly.

"What do you mean, 'lead them to safety'?" Kurosaki demanded, eyes narrowed and stance stubborn. "Aren't you coming with us?"

"Someone needs to be the decoy," Kaito said with a flippant tone and Urahara's cheerful grin. A grin that faltered at the looks he was getting from the other five. Even Sado was staring at him like he was an idiot; he'd never gotten such a dark look from the tall teen before, and that struck him more than Inoue's pout or Kurosaki's mulish annoyance. Still, he forged on, clinging to the cheerful mask as best he could. "I can't guide you in Seireitei. I don't actually know much about this place—"

"So your brilliant plan is to run around blindly and make noise?" Ishida snarled, stalking forward and grabbing a handful of Kaito's kimono to yank him closer. "After everything you've pounded into our heads about teamwork and trusting each other and not charging off on our own. After _telling us_ that you, too, would seek out a partner to fight alongside if you knew you were outmatched, _this_ is your brilliant plan? To do everything you told us not to?!"

Kaito blinked, his cheerful mask slipping with the shock of being manhandled by his past self. His gaze darted over Ishida's shoulder, taking in the others and their clear agreement with Ishida's words. Even _Ganju_ was looking at him like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

He… he hadn't expected this. Hadn't expected them to listen, to take his words to heart the way they had.

(Hadn't expected them to include him in their thoughts.)

(Why was Zangetsu so _sorrowful_ suddenly?)

"He's right," Kurosaki told him. "You can't just expect us to be okay with this. Not after everything you've told us."

"There has to be another way," Inoue agreed firmly

Sado nodded and moved closer, looming over Ishida's shoulder and staring down at Kaito with a resolute gaze. "We're not leaving you to the mercy of the Shinigami."

Kaito opened his mouth, trying to find words to explain why this was necessary, why he needed to do this, but… couldn't. They wouldn't accept anything he had to say, not about this, and what words he had couldn't encompass the _need-fear-fury_ that clawed at his mind and _demanded_ he see to things himself.

"If you won't let any of _them_ go with you, then take me," Ganju spoke up, arms crossed over his chest and expression twisted into a scowl.

"I thought you didn't like me," Kaito said, trying for levity and falling flat.

Ishida's fingers tightened on Kaito's kimono, nearly choking him as the fabric dug into his throat from the strength of Ishida's grip. The others shifted, their reiatsu beginning to be edged in anger.

"I like the Shinigami less," Ganju said into the heavy silence.

Yoruichi watched from the wall above them, gaze unreadable and body as still as a statue.

(He could ask her to be the decoy. Ask her to take command. She was, in fact, the better option. He could stay and do his best to lead the others to where they needed to be. They could muddle their way together, a team. Like he had told them they were.)

(He couldn't ask that of her. Not after everything she had already done for him.)

(He couldn't ask it of Ganju, either. The man neither liked nor trusted him. Fighting alongside him… no. Kaito wouldn't be able to trust that Ganju wouldn't stab him in the back. The Karakura teens were one thing, but Ganju was a stranger.)

Gently, Kaito pried Ishida's fingers from his kimono and stepped back. He could see the moment when his actions registered, see the snarling micro-expression curl his past self's lips, see the way Ishida tensed to lunge.

He darted away as Ishida lunged, landing atop the wall next to Yoruichi.

"I'll be fine," he reassured the teens below him, cheerful mask discarded but for the fond smile that he couldn't repress.

(And if it was a bit wistful, a bit melancholy at all the things he had never realized he _wanted_ , well… he doubted they would say anything.)

(Why couldn't _his_ timeline have been like this?)

"Sensei, see that they remain focused on their goal, would you?"

"I will," Yoruichi agreed solemnly. She said nothing more: no words of caution or rebuke, no 'be safe, be careful, be wary', no reminder of Urahara or what he would say about this. Her eyes said it all.

Kaito briefly knelt to run a hand over Yoruichi's soft fur, a silent acknowledgment of her silent admonishments, before darting away without sparing another glance at the teens on the street below.

(He couldn't bear the thought of the betrayal and rage that was no doubt in their expressions.)

(They were better off with the stealth expert leading the way, anyway.)

(They had to be.)

* * *

Kaito landed a few buildings over and settled into a crouch atop one of the sloped roofs. There was so much he needed to take care of — so much he needed to _manage_ for this to be a success — that he barely knew where to start.

The Captains needed to be distracted, the squads needed to be more ineffective than usual, Aizen and his lackeys needed to remain unsuspecting, and the rest of the teens needed to be protected as best he could while he was away from them.

(*You need to be safe, too,*) Ichigo pointed out. (*Start with hiding your reiatsu.*)

Ichigo was right. Sitting out in the open, relying just on his own shaky ability at suppression, was asking for trouble. So Kaito closed his eyes, breathed out, and carefully directed reiatsu into his pendant and the charms on his new bracelet; the pendant was easy enough, almost instinctual after months of practice, but the bracelet was different.

Starburst. Sword. Cat head.

Kaito probed each carefully, feeling out the way they took and molded his reiatsu in an attempt to understand. He really should have listened to his Father when the man was explaining — or at least asked him to repeat — but he hadn't.

The starburst was easy enough to understand, at least. Kaito recognized the way his reiatsu was starting to flow; Tsukabishi had been trying to teach him healing kido for the past few days, after all, and the similarities were unmistakable. He still wasn't going to attempt to do _anything_ with it unless necessary, but… if _he_ needed to be healing someone, chances were the situation was dire enough that scars and badly healed wounds were the _least_ of anyone's problems.

The sword was harder. It felt like protection, but not the same way the pendant did. It also grabbed at his reiatsu with greedy 'hands', trying to yank his power away from him and into it to do… whatever it was designed to do. Wresting his power away from the charm took longer than Kaito expected, and he couldn't resist raising his wrist up closer to his face in order to glower at the offending charm.

"You're going to be as annoying as Father, aren't you," he muttered at the slightly-glowing sword.

(*Are you trying to make yourself look crazy?*) Ichigo asked in amusement.

Zangetsu projected fond exasperation at all of them, and said, ( _*I believe it was trying to form some manner of shield.*_ )

(*Wait, you mean like Orihime's type of shield, or like the shield Urahara's blade can make?*)

( _*I would suppose like his?*_ ) Kaito hesitantly suggested, as he poked the charm and watched as the glow slowly subsided. ( _*It is shaped like his sword, after all. So maybe Benihime helped him come up with something?*_ )

Ichigo hesitated long enough that Kaito began to frown.

(*Maybe,*) Ichigo said, reluctant and cautious.

Kaito breathed out and pinched the bridge of his nose. Whatever Ichigo's hangup on Benihime — or on the suggestion that she would help Urahara with something — was, he didn't have any time to get into that here and now. He needed to get moving, and the first part of that was hiding himself as best as possible.

Careful to keep his reiatsu from the sword, Kaito reached out towards the charms once more, trying for the cat head this time. It was almost a relief when he sensed the way it latched onto his reiatsu and a layer of power settled over his body; it was stronger than the pendant, almost smothering in its intensity, but _this_ , at least, he understood.

It wasn't really _stealth_ , but it was close. Assisted stealth, a forceful alteration of the reiatsu that naturally slipped from his grasp so that it felt less like him and more like the natural reishi surrounding him. Against many Shinigami, it would be more than enough.

Against many of the Captains, only decades of training would enable him to escape their notice.

He'd take what he could get.

( _*Alright. Where do we start?*_ ) Kaito asked, letting his arm drop back to his side and shifting forward to peer down at the street below. It was almost suspiciously empty. ( _*And where is everyone, anyway? I remember running into people almost right away.*_ )

(*Well, we did all come down in one location this time. Maybe they're wary this time?*)

( ***They damn well better be!*** ) Shiro's excitement pulsed through Kaito, their fingers twitching towards the hilt of their main blade. ( ***They ain't ne'er met any'ne like us!*** )

( _*Breaking through the barrier requires not just immense power, but immense control as well.*_ ) Zangetsu did his best to project calm. ( _*Our timeline showed that we had the power but not the control, and then we were immediately separated. I do not believe I need to remind you how vulnerable we are on our own.*_ )

"No, you really don't," Kaito breathed aloud, remembering all too well the terror of those few days, trying to survive in a place out for their blood.

( _*So the first thing you need to take care of is to clear out the area,*_ ) Zangetsu proposed, then directed Kaito's attention towards the slowly approaching signatures of a small troop of low-level Shinigami.

Kaito considered it for a moment, but he already knew his answer. Giving the others time to find their feet and get used to Seireitei's confusing streets would do wonders for their ability to survive. And he _had_ slipped away with the express purpose of drawing attention.

So draw attention he would.

( _*But remember to keep your calm.*_ )

He nodded and stood, absently wiping his damp palms on his kimono as he did. Zangetsu was right. He couldn't leave any of them dead, not with the precarious position he held, and especially not in this pre-revelation stage where Aizen was pulling all the strings behind the scenes. The man was an expert puppetmaster when he wanted to be, and essentially had all of Seireitei in his grasp at this moment.

( _*Just so long as I don't come across any of_ _ **them,**_ _*_ ) Kaito agreed, flash-stepping away from his perch and towards the patrol Zangetsu had sensed. He knew himself well enough to know what would happen if he ran into either Kurotsuchi or any of the traitors, and 'keeping calm' was near the very bottom of the list.

With the two charms activated, it was laughably easy to ambush the squad of Shinigami; all he had to do was drop from the rooftops and land in their midst to send them into a panic. Kaito didn't even bother drawing either of his blades, just lashed out with fist and foot. Only three managed to draw their blades before Kaito was on them, and of those three, only the squad leader managed to get in even a single blow.

The rest scattered like terrified rabbits, fleeing down the streets without looking back.

Kaito ducked under the leader's blow. Grabbed the man's arm. _Twisted_.

The zanpakutou clattered to the ground at their feet. A touch of enhanced strength and Kaito hurled the leader into his squad members, sending the three of them tumbling to the ground. Grabbed the zanpakutou. Grimaced at the feel of _wrong-revulsion-don't-touch-me_ that jolted through him. Hurled the blade atop a nearby roof.

(*That was foul,*) Ichigo muttered. (*Guess we know why most Shinigami don't let others handle their blades.*)

( _*That was a piece of his_ _ **soul**_ _I held in my hands for a moment,*_ ) Kaito reminded Ichigo. He wiped his hand on his kimono, and stalked towards the fallen Shinigami who were still trying to sort themselves out. ( _*I wouldn't want any of_ _ **them**_ _touching you, either.*_ )

The rush of _fury-rage-loathing_ that flashed through him at the very thought of one of his blades in the hands of an unknown Shinigami made Kaito freeze in his tracks. He closed his eyes and _breathed_. ( _*Shiro, Shiro, please. They haven't— I won't— no one is going to touch_ _ **any**_ _of you unless you all agree!*_ )

( ***Unless we** _ **all**_ **agree, Koneko-chan,*** ) Shiro answered, voice dark. ( ***Yer part'a us, too.*** )

The fury receded from his mind, left him less inclined to _kill_.

And just in time.

One of the Shinigami had taken advantage of his distraction. Had struggled free of the pile and lunged, blade extended.

Shiro snagged the blade out of the air, hand coated in reiatsu to blunt the edge. Kaito stepped into the blow, slamming his elbow in the Shinigami's sternum and yanking the zanpakutou free of the other's suddenly lax grip. He stepped back, hurled the second zanpakutou atop the roof after the first, and gathered himself to resume fighting.

No one struck.

The squad leader had a sour look on his face, his stance solid but unpracticed. Behind him, the only remaining Shinigami with a blade was _trembling_ , blade-tip weaving through the air. The gutsy one, who had tried to attack while Kaito was distracted, was massaging his chest and watching Kaito with wary, knowing eyes.

Kaito sighed in frustration.

"Go on, shoo," he told them, flapping a hand to wave them off. "You're hardly interesting to fight."

The two in the back didn't need telling again. They bolted without a backwards glance, leaving the gutsy Shinigami behind.

"Sacrificing yourself is worthless in this situation," Kaito told the Shinigami. "We both know it."

The other briefly gained a mulish look to his face, before it faded away into a resigned grimace. He massaged his chest again, then glanced up at the roof where Kaito had thrown his zanpakutou. "Could I, uhm…" he fidgeted a bit, then squared his shoulders and met Kaito's gaze as steadily as he could. "Could I at least get our blades back? Uhm. Seireitei is such a maze, and… I'm not… I don't… really know my way around…"

Kaito weighed his options for a moment, then shrugged and stepped back, giving the Shinigami space to get past him. "Go ahead. I'm not stopping you."

Warily, like a feral cat, the young Shinigami edged closer, keeping Kaito in his sight the whole way.

"Can you even get up there?" Kaito asked, curious at the way the Shinigami was hesitating and eying the walls of the buildings. Was the other actually considering trying to climb up to the rooftops?

The faint look of shame was all Kaito needed to know the answer. With a huff, he stalked forward and looped an arm around the bold Shinigami before the other could react. The kid weighed barely anything, and it was the work of moments to shunpo to the roof and drop the kid next to his blade.

The kid yelped, stumbling at the unexpected movement, and stared up at Kaito in shock.

"A word of advice," Kaito offered after a moment of awkward silence. "When you're outclassed, sometimes the best option is simply to _run._ "

"Like the others."

Kaito huffed, amused at the kid's tone, but still nodded his agreement at the words. "Perhaps with a bit less, ah… panic, however. That never helps anyone, especially yourself."

The kid narrowed his eyes warily, slowly kneeling to collect his sword and slide it back into its sheath, then asked, "Why are you telling me this?"

"You've got more guts than skill to back it up at the moment," Kaito said. "That's going to get you killed."

"You're a _ryoka_ ," the kid muttered angrily, "What do you care?" He stalked across the rooftop to his squad leader's blade, then knelt to pick up that one as well, holding it awkwardly at his side like it was a snake about to bite him.

Kaito shook his head. "I'm not interesting in killing. I'll do it in self defense, but…"

"We don't really warrant that." A wry, bitter smile pulled at the edges of the kid's lips.

"No, you don't."

The kid eyed him for a moment, then sighed and shook his head. "Go on, then. I can get back down on my own, I've just never been good at going _up_."

Kaito hesitated, watching as the kid walked to the edge of the roof and started to gather himself to jump down. "It's like stairs." At the kid's startled, questioning look, Kaito motioned between the ground and roof. "Going up. It's like climbing stairs, or a steep hill." Why in the world was he giving the Shinigami kid _more_ advice? He didn't even know the kid's _name_ , or division, or anything about him besides the fact that he was stubborn and had guts, even in the face of an unwinnable situation.

Still, the thoughtful look and slow nod was… gratifying.

Kaito flashed away before he could waste any more time trying to give advice to an _enemy_. Even if he could currently beat the kid without difficulty, that didn't negate their current roles.

(He hoped the kid didn't get in trouble for what Kaito had done.)

But he didn't have long to think on that. There were other patrols edging closer, some of them with enough of a presence to them that Kaito was certain they were led by a seated officer. He could easily handle everything he could sense — so far at least — but he couldn't be _everywhere_.

Already he could sense that patrols were starting to surround the area that they had landed, and he desperately hoped that Yoruichi had gotten the others moving before they became trapped and needed to fight their way out.

(He couldn't sense Kurosaki. He _could not sense_ Kurosaki _anywhere_ , except as lingering traces of power that were already spreading so far and wide as to make him all but untraceable.)

(Except that spreading reiatsu… it had all the hallmarks of Yoruichi's paw involved in it. He had to believe that she had gotten them away, had hidden them in a place where they could not be sensed, all to give him time to cause a distraction.)

Kaito squared his shoulders, tugged his father's haori a bit tighter about his body, and started to make his plans.

He darted in. Took out a squad. Continued on.

He couldn't play around anymore.

He zigzagged his way across the area, attacking one squad and leaving a nearby one untouched. Let them wonder, let them _question._

It was hard to keep up a patternless attack. Not just because humans were creatures of pattern by nature, but because it meant he needed to crisscross the area. It was tiring, and inefficient, and probably revealed more about his skills than he would like, but it kept them guessing. It kept the squads jumping at shadows, and allowed him to spring ambushes that would have otherwise not worked.

By the time the sun was high overhead, Kaito had led the pursuit away from the place they had landed and was beginning to question the wisdom of his choices.

( _*They're going to start throwing Lieutenants or Captains at us soon,*_ ) Kaito said, landing on the roof of a building and pausing for a moment to catch his breath. ( _*We… I need… we can't…*_ )

( _*You're pushing yourself too hard.*_ ) Zangetsu's tone was worried. He reached out, through Kaito, to unzip the bag Kaito was still carrying and pull out a bottle of water, making their body take a drink. ( _*If this time will be anything akin to our invasion, we have three days before the execution. At the rate you are currently going, you will not be able to sustain your efforts for more than a day or two.*_ )

Kaito fiddled with the bottle of water, then took another swallow before putting it back. Zangetsu was right, and they both knew it. ( _*Suggestions?*_ )

( ***We could go beat up some Captains, Koneko-chan!*** )

( _*Besides social suicide, thanks,*_ ) Kaito answered with a soft laugh, settling down on the roof and letting himself relax a bit in the bright sunlight. ( _*I'm not quite so confident that I could turn the important Captains to our side the way you did, Ichigo.*_ )

(*I bet you could do it if you tried. That Shinigami earlier was really taken with you,*) Ichigo said.

Kaito shook his head. ( _*I didn't rough him up too much, I took him to the rooftop, and I gave him two pieces of advice. Of course he'd be 'taken' with me; I hardly acted like what he expected!*_ )

Ichigo's laugh rippled through his mind, warm and amused, and Kaito relaxed further at the sound, unable to resist a small smile himself. (*How's that any different from what I'd've done?*)

He considered that, considered the things he knew Ichigo had done, and what he had just done. ( _*I guess… it's really not.*_ )

(*I didn't know what the hell I was doing, either, you know,*) Ichigo admitted. (*Turning Byakuya, convincing Renji, all of that… I just tried to show them how dumb they were being about everything.*)

( _*Of course you did.*_ ) Kaito leaned forward, searching with both his vision and his senses to try and spot any lurking Shinigami, but found nothing once more. His protection was holding, thankfully. ( _*It's what you did with me, too. I guess a lot of us are just being really dumb about everything in our lives.*_ )

(*Eh, I think it's human nature?*) Ichigo fell silent, thoughtful and considering. (*Like in Shakespeare's plays, you know? A lot of things happen because people are being dumb, or making assumptions, or saying 'this is how its always been'. So just… I could try to help, if you run into a situation and don't have the words for it?*)

( _*Thank you,*_ ) Kaito said with relief. He _knew_ Ichigo had his back, but confirmation of that lifted a weight from his shoulders that he couldn't afford to deal with right now.

That still left what they were actually going to _do_ , though.

( ***If we can't beat 'em all up, how 'bout we prank 'em?*** ) Shiro suggested with dark glee, as he drew Kaito's attention down to an abandoned mop and bucket on the walkway across from them. ( ***Hat'n'Clog's always on 'bout us thinkin' things through more. And 'sides! This way we can get everyone! Nowhere and no one will be safe!*** )

( _*Including the other teens,*_ ) Kaito shot back, before leaning forward a bit more to peer at the abandoned objects. Shiro did have a point, though. Pranks were just harmless traps, things that could distract or disturb, and it would allow him to spread his influence more easily across the whole of Seireitei. ( _*I'm… not really certain father meant for us to apply 'thinking ahead' as 'pranking the Shinigami'.*_ )

( ***Why th'fuck not? It's fuckin' strategy, ain't it? Superior foe taken down by superior tactics 'n all that bullshit?*** )

( _*You're the one who keeps moving my bookmark in those books on strategy father got me!*_ )

Shiro cackled, radiating smugness. ( ***Damn right, Koneko-chan! Best damn gift th'man ever gave us. Now, c'mon, we're burnin' daylight an' advantages 'ere. We need a storeroom an' 'nother bag fer supplies. Not like we really planned fer this, so we gotta use their shit 'gainst them.*** )

(*This looks like a barracks, so there should be a storeroom around here somewhere.*)

Kaito fiddled with the brim of his hat, pulling it down enough to shade his eyes, then scanned the area once more. Still nothing. Wherever the division was, this set of buildings was almost entirely empty right now. There were a few still lingering, but they were nowhere near him, and didn't feel like a threat in any case.

He hopped down from the roof and considered all the doors and windows that he could see. Where would a storeroom be located…

(*Maybe try near the kitchen? We could steal some food in the process.*)

That was a good enough idea as any, Kaito acknowledged. But it still didn't really help him find where the storeroom — or the kitchen! — was.

(*In the back,*) Ichigo urged, coming to the fore and directing them through the courtyard and around to a different area of the compound.

It was a bit more haphazard, a bit more _lived in_ : a uniform draped over a railing, sleeves nearly touching the ground; a polishing cloth and pot of oil sat atop a rock, lid left open; a couple of plates left lying about, one with a half-eaten bowl of soup. Everywhere they looked there were things scattered all about, signs of life that the main courtyard just didn't have.

Ichigo picked his way through the area, careful not to disturb anything left out, then paused for a moment and considered the layout. (*Should be… over here, I think.*) He slid open a door as silently as possible, peering into the revealed room for a moment before walking in and sliding it closed behind him. (*Well, it's not the kitchen, but it is one of the storerooms. And I think this one should have things we can use.*)

Kaito looked around at the towering shelves, at the stacks upon stacks of items and gear and supplies, and felt himself _hope_. Something in this mess had to be useful in his new goal. Already he could spot rolls of paper and bundles of cloth, pots of ink and coils of rope, along with bins labeled with all sorts of kanji, some of which he didn't recognize. There were any number of traps he could already think of, with just the things within sight.

But first, something to carry everything in.

Now where would that be kept…

* * *

Eeey, I live. Long time no see? Sorry, life's been busy and I've been struggling to keep on top of everything.

No real promises on when the next chapter will come out, but just a reminder that I am relatively active on tumblr; my blog url is the same as my author name here, akaluan. I usually try to keep my followers up to date on where I am in the writing process and what all I'm working on, whereas I honestly haven't been on ffnet in months beyond reading reviews people write (which THANK YOU, ALL OF YOU, you're all wonderful folk and I love you very much, I feel like I don't say that enough, so... THANK YOU!) and that's usually on my phone while I'm on break at work. So keeping a profile up to date is something that really slips my mind all the time.

Anyway! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see you next time!


	20. Chaos, Mayhem, and Disorder

**Thank you for all your favs and comments! I love them all so much, it makes my day ^.^**

 **I am actually going to try to go through and reply to some comments eventually, but I've been busy trying to actually get a handle on everything, so... well, even if I don't reply, know that I love y'all dearly!**

 **Also a big thanks to my followers over on tumblr, who helped me with bits of this chapter. I didn't end up talking a lot about the pranks, but all of your ideas were a big help in setting things up!**

* * *

Kaito absently ate a steamed bun he had lifted from the division's kitchens and continued to rifle through the pantry. Only a few foods were really useful for pranks, especially since he needed to be carrying everything with him, but it was good to know what was around and likely to be available at other divisions.

Things like rice flour, sugar, packets of agar, and food dye all had their uses. Granted, the bucketful of rice paste that he'd whipped up quickly was lumpy and much too watery to actually be used as glue, but to add a sticky surprise to a trap? It was perfect. Especially when he'd decided to toss some food dye into it as well, swirling it all around until the whitish solution was streaked with blue and green all the way through.

(He'd taken his father's haori off before starting, tucking the fabric back into his travel bag. He wasn't going to risk damaging or staining it, not when so much of what he was planning on involved making a mess. The hat stayed, of course; he hadn't been lying when he said it helped disguise his features at least a little.)

The agar he'd be using elsewhere, since it traveled easier than home-made glue or raw flour or sugar. He would still need either a kitchen or a way to boil water in order to make it into gelatin, but that was easier than the amount of supplies required for rice paste.

For the rest, he simply browsed, occasionally tucking away something that he could snack on later.

(*Heads up, incoming,*) Ichigo warned him.

Kaito finished the last of his steamed bun and moved to the back of the storeroom. There were narrow windows all along the back wall, just under the roof line, and he'd spent some time pulling one open. Being trapped in a room with no way out was definitely not on his list of things to do, especially this early in the invasion.

It took some shimmying to get his body through the narrow space, and he thanked the kami that his body was flexible enough to contort the way he needed. The bags were the worst part of getting himself through, and he needed to pause more than once in order to readjust how the items sat in order to fit his bag of supplies through the narrow space. The bag he brought with him wasn't bad, being full of clothes for the most part, but the pranking supplies were difficult.

He wriggled free and hopped up onto the rooftop, taking a moment to settle both bags comfortably across his body, then crept forward towards the noises and signatures that had alerted Ichigo. Kaito kept low, peering over the edge of the roof and blinked at the sight in front of him.

A handful of Shinigami were tangled together, wrapped in the rope-trap he had improvised around the door, and a few of their fellows were attempting to cut them free. Unfortunately, the ropes — and most of the Shinigami! — were covered in the colorful, sticky glue that Kaito had made; from the expressions of disgust and frustration, it didn't look like anyone was enjoying the situation.

The Shinigami didn't immediately spot him, too busy trying to free their fellows without spreading the glue even further, but as Kaito shifted to get a better view of the chaos, a small Shinigami — body and hair splashed with streaks of blue and green glue, face twisted into an expression of fury — snapped his attention upwards and locked gazes with Kaito.

(*That's Toshiro! This must be the Tenth!*) Ichigo yelped, as frigid reiatsu rose around them and ice began to form over everything. (*We should definitely get going, right now.*)

Kaito didn't argue, just stood, grinned cheekily and waved at the furious Captain, then darted away in his fastest shunpo. The young Captain was _never_ going to forgive him this, Kaito was certain; it was going to take all his effort to not snicker at the memory the next time he came across Toshiro.

He didn't run far, just a few buildings over. Enough to be sure Toshiro wasn't following him immediately. He needed to start setting traps across Seireitei, but he also needed to make sure none of them were lethal. Everything had a _chance_ to be, of course, but… he needed to limit that. Restrict what he did and where it was set up.

( _*This is just another form of strategy,*_ ) Zangetsu said while Kaito took out some thin rope and began setting his next trap. ( _*Pay attention to the area and to how the trap can be triggered. Identify the ways it could be lethal, and then make sure you avoid those ways.*_ )

Kaito hummed thoughtfully, eyed the resulting trap, then repositioned it; Zangetsu was right, he needed to think about the ways a trap could be lethal, not about the ways it could be nonlethal. There wasn't any hope that he could avoid injuring everyone completely, but… he hoped to keep the injuries to a minimum at least.

Satisfied with this one, Kaito moved on.

( _*Over there. What could you trap that area with?*_ ) Zangetsu prompted.

Kaito paused and considered the little alcove Zangetsu had pointed out. There was a bench tucked away under an overhang and very little else, just a small nook someone could retreat to to rest or get out of the rain.

Shiro made a noise of glee, ( ***We could make ink fall on 'em!*** )

( _*Good. You don't want to just trap the places a person could walk. You want to disrupt their daily lives and the places they don't expect.*_ ) Zangetsu hesitated a moment, then continued speaking, voice merciless. ( _*If we were intending on actually bringing Seireitei to its knees, I would tell you to almost exclusively focus on the places they feel safest in. When a person doesn't know where or what to trust, they quickly wear out and are easier to take down.*_ )

Kaito hopped down from the roof and approached the nook, staring thoughtfully up at the overhang and then the bench it sheltered. The trick would be getting the trigger to work correctly, he figured.

(*We could do something with seals, too,*) Ichigo suggested, while Kaito carefully poured ink into wax-paper pouches and lightly twisted them closed. (*Urahara taught you enough to make basic ones, right?*)

( _*I… yes, I believe so,*_ ) Kaito agreed as he attached the pouches to the overhang, then carefully tied them in position with a thread and fed the thread back down to the bench. He didn't know how effective this trap was going to be, but Zangetsu was right; the more everyone had to keep on their toes, the better for him. ( _*It's not much more than light or sound for the most part, but I can see your point.*_ )

Zangetsu made a noise of agreement and prompted Kaito to keep moving. ( _*Sometimes a bit of light or sound is all you really need.*_ )

( ***Hey, hey! Iffen we can't attack th'Captains straight on, can we fuck wit' em? Renji was always complainin' 'bout paperwork, wasn't 'e, Aibo?*** )

Ichigo considered that for a moment. (*Yeah. Rangiku complained about it, too. They all did, really, in their own way.*)

Kaito considered that, even as he moved through the streets and scattered traps around, mental 'ear' tuned to Zangetsu's murmured suggestions and quiet nudges as the surprisingly knowledgeable man led him through the process. It was hard to keep Zangetsu's suggestions _harmless_ , sometimes — where _had_ the man picked up so many ways to set a snare, anyway? — but Kaito was determined.

Slipping into a mostly-empty Division was as easy the second time as the first; no one had yet put all the clues together, so no one was keeping watch just yet. Ignoring the supply rooms for the moment, Kaito poked his head through the rooms facing the main courtyard, trying to get a feel for the layout. He prowled through the offices and public rooms, examined the training rooms, and paused at the door to the Division Archives, eyes narrowing and plans slipping through his mind.

How cruel did he want to be?

( _*Nothing too obvious,*_ ) Zangetsu cautioned. ( _*If you interfere with their records, and not just the things set out in the current offices, they will believe you here for espionage purposes. Even touching their current paperwork will bring suspicion upon your shoulders, but it will be much less than if you affect older information.*_ )

Kaito grimaced and turned his back on the records room, closing the door firmly behind him. He didn't want that sort of suspicion being held over his head; bad enough so many of the Captains would know who he was related to, he didn't need to give them extra ammunition. He would need to steer clear of the archives.

But that left plenty of things for him to do.

With a small smirk, Kaito went through each office, shifting every piece of furniture a half-inch from its place, each office a different way. He switched the piles of paperwork between the different rooms. Added plenty of food dye to the bottled ink and shook it well.

He snuck around the back and into the kitchen, filling a pot with water and considering it carefully. Taking time to boil it would be dangerous, but maybe if he just… adapted some of the kido Tsukabishi had begun to teach him?

( _*Ichigo?*_ )

Ichigo obligingly clamped down even further on their output, leaving Kaito with as little as possible. Kaito didn't bother attempting to cast a true Kido, just focused on the first stages of gathering reiatsu into his hand for a fire-based kido and pressed a finger against the pot warily.

(Heat, he wanted heat. He wanted boiling water and steam and _heat_.)

Reiatsu flushed through his hand and into the pot, the metal and the water within it heating up at an alarming rate and making Kaito yank his hand back in shock. He shook it, stared warily at the boiling water, then dumped a packet of agar and plenty of bright red food dye into the water without bothering to measure. He wasn't cooking here, or even attempting to make something edible. He just wanted a surprise, a shock to the system that he could combine with other traps.

Kaito gave the mixture a few stirs, then wandered away to do some extra sabotage; switching the salt and sugar was juvenile but effective, as was simple rearranging of the storeroom out of the careful order it was apparently kept in. He helped himself to more leftovers, snacking as he wandered out of the storage room and back to his pot of agar to give it a few more stirs.

Everything _seemed_ to be going well, Kaito thought as he eyed the scarlet mixture, but he didn't have time to wait for it to cool enough to carry off, either. Could he do the same as before? Use reiatsu to cool it down to a manageable temperature without freezing it?

(*Maybe think about lukewarm things, instead of like Toshiro's reiatsu? You don't want it to freeze, do you?*) Ichigo asked, as they coated one hand with reiatsu and played with it, trying find a decent medium. (*Or maybe like ice in a glass of water?*)

That could work.

Kaito narrowed his eyes in concentration and released his hold over his reiatsu. His control over reishi was better than his personal reiatsu, and _this_ required a level of control that making the water boil quickly did not. Carefully, he condensed reishi into droplets, trying to _twist_ the reishi into the same chill feeling that Toshiro's power gave off, and letting them fall one by one into the hot water.

It… wasn't very effective. It _helped_ , but Kaito knew he didn't have the trick of it just yet. None of the Kido he'd started to learn were ice-based, so he didn't have any comparison beyond the brief feeling of Toshiro's to go off of. Still, at least the water wasn't dangerously hot anymore.

Content with what he'd managed, Kaito quickly tore the wax paper up into smaller sections, and began to portion out the cooling gelatin. It was messy, awkward work, and he dropped more than one small pouch before he managed to find the trick of it. In the end, he was left with nearly two dozen small clusters of cooling crimson gelatin, tied in wax paper cones. His hands were stained red, the counter and floor were both a mess, and the pot itself was going to need a good scrubbing to get rid of the residue.

He'd managed to mostly avoid getting the dye on his kimono, but washing his hands off didn't do much beyond fade the red down to something less eye catching. Kaito really didn't envy whoever had to handle the mess he left behind.

The paper cones went into another bag that Kaito had liberated, and he carefully tied that one to his waist. It was time to get moving again, before someone discovered his trespass while he was still around.

Kaito left that division behind, back to making his wending way across the Seireitei rooftops, scattering traps and tricks behind him at random, adding in the little packets of red gelatin in a few of them. Already he could sense the slowly rising frustration of the Shinigami in his wake, as his traps started being discovered.

Good, he had their attention.

Now he just needed to keep it up.

* * *

The sun was creeping towards mid-afternoon by the time Kaito felt he had enough space for a small rest. He'd made a circuit of most of Seireitei, scattering traps as he went; it wasn't _enough_ , but he'd only been at it for half a day.

( _*It's enough to start making them wary,*_ ) Zangetsu said. ( _*And you've begun a precedent with the Captains, trapping the divisions where the Captains are out, and leaving be the ones where the Captains are in residence.*_ )

Ichigo laughed, gleeful and content in equal measure. (*Hopefully that will keep them in place a bit more than last time.*)

( ***Well I fuckin' hope we get'ta see more'n jes Toshiro caught in a trap!*** ) Shiro added.

Kaito huffed a soft laugh, chin propped on one palm and a calligraphy brush gripped carefully in his other hand. He'd taken over some Captain's office to rest in once he spotted the supplies; whoever's office this was, they used better quality ink and paper than most of the Shinigami did. Which meant that Kaito could do a bit more than just write silly notes to post up around the place.

The rice paper wasn't _quite_ up to the quality that Urahara had been using for the ketsugo-fu, but it was enough to hold a few bits of reiatsu in it. The ink, too, was better than the regular bottles, holding onto his intention and reiatsu without letting it bleed away in moments.

He'd already made a few seals, just simple things that produced flashes of light or sound. They'd be useful in the next round of traps, he figured.

The sound of movement drew his attention up from the paper, and Kaito lifted his head and scowled at the door to the office. He didn't sense _anything_ , so who—

The door slid open.

Kuchiki Byakuya stood frozen in the doorway, hand still gripping the frame of the door, gaze fixed on Kaito.

( _*Fuck.*_ ) Kaito had the presence of mind to say, right before everything went to hell.

Kuchiki lunged. Tripped over the rope Kaito had glued to the floor. Scrambled to correct himself.

Kaito swept up his collection of finished seals and bags of supplies and _bolted._

"Not that I don't appreciate the attention," Kaito called over his shoulder, ducking away from Kuchiki's sword. He froze in his tracks for a moment, letting Kuchiki overshoot his position, then bolted in a new direction. "But can we not do this?"

"If you give yourself up instead of continuing this foolish resistance, your sentence will be lighter," Kuchiki replied, correcting his course and resuming the chase.

Kaito made a frustrated noise, pulling out all the tricks he'd learned from Yoruichi in order to keep ahead of the Captain. "Like I'd believe a Shinigami," he shouted back when he had the breath to spare. _Especially in this time,_ he added silently. Between Aizen and the general prejudice against outsiders, Kaito doubted he'd survive for more than a day if he was captured.

(*There.*) Ichigo nudged Kaito's next shunpo step, directing them towards an open space that was larger than the streets they were racing over. (*We can stop and fight him here. It's about the only way we're going to be able to throw him off, I think.*)

( _*Or we can not?*_ ) Kaito nevertheless put on a burst of speed and landed in the middle of the space, dropping his bags and spinning to face Kuchiki as he did. He palmed one of his remaining packets of gelatin in his off-hand, in lieu of having anything else to throw in Kuchiki's face to surprise the man. ( _*I really didn't want to fight any of the Captains.*_ )

(*I thought you didn't want to leave Kuchiki to face my past self.*)

( _*I don't!*_ ) Kaito growled as he dodged Kuchiki's blade again. He needed to end this quickly, before Kuchiki decided he was worth bringing out the shikai or bankai for. Now was not the time to get into a chaotic scuffle that would draw the entire Seireitei to them. ( _*If we could just avoid the Captains completely, that would be wonderful!*_ )

"If you will not surrender, then I will simply need to capture you," Kuchiki said, steely gaze tracking Kaito's movements. Whatever else the man was, he was a skilled warrior, and was quickly familiarizing himself with what Kaito had revealed of his fighting style.

( _*Shiro?*_ )

( ***I'm gunna fuckin' teach ya this move properly one a'these days, Koneko-chan,*** ) Shiro grumbled, as his hierro settled over Kaito's body.

Kaito didn't respond, too focused on the fight. Kuchiki was becoming frustrated, his expression pinching tighter every time Kaito evaded his strikes, his blows coming sharper and quicker.

"What's wrong? Not used to fighting someone who doesn't just sit still?" Kaito mocked the Captain, mustering up his most irritating Urahara-grin.

There was a flash of puzzled recognition in Kuchiki's face, and Kaito used that moment to dart in close. His hand came up, fingers flexing to tear through the wax paper and break the gelatin up, and he threw the resulting mess in Kuchiki's face.

"What—!" Kuchiki flinched back, eyes closing and free hand rising into a guard position.

Kaito _pounced._ Latched onto Kuchiki's exposed arm. Twisted and _threw_ the man with all his might. The man slammed into the wall and slid to the ground, dazed and still partially blinded by the sticky mess that was splattered across his face and the front of his uniform.

"Just stay there for a bit," Kaito told Kuchiki brightly, holding out one hand and concentrating on forming a kido properly. Reiatsu sparked across his fingers, squirming free of his mental grip, and Kaito made a frustrated noise as he and Ichigo squashed it back under control.

Kido wasn't his strong suit, and adding incantations only made it worse. He couldn't concentrate on both controlling his reiatsu _and_ chanting a string of inane words at the same time, so Tsukabishi had compromised; high level kido were more lenient about reiatsu control, and the lack of incantation meant even his screw-ups weren't likely to kill anyone. Even so, he'd only managed to get the feel for a small handful of kido; just enough to surprise people with, but very little else.

Kuchiki finally managed to stand, one hand braced against the wall behind him, the other wiping away a few last traces of gelatin. His eyes widened at the sight of the yellow energy gathered around Kaito's fingers—

Kaito leapt to the side as Kuchiki lunged. Flexed his fingers. Allowed the spell to solidify. "Nope! Bakudo sixty-three, Sajou Sabaku."

Chains materialized in the air and coiled tight around Kuchiki's upper body, pulling a startled yelp from the man as he overbalanced and toppled forward. Kaito darted forward and grabbed the chains, preventing Kuchiki from face-planting on the ground.

"I'm sure your fellow Captains will get you out of this soon enough," Kaito said cheerfully, as he pulled Kuchiki back towards the wall and set the man down. "I won't even tell them you yelped like a startled cat!"

Kuchiki sputtered in protest, then settled on glaring up at him balefully. "You won't escape, you know. You have the entirety of Seireitei hunting you down right now. It's only a matter of time before we corner you."

Kaito took a step back and pulled his hat down a bit, trying to bite back the grimace that wanted to surface. Kuchiki was right. It _was_ only a matter of time before he was cornered, and Kaito just had to hope that everything worked itself out before he needed to resort to something more physically damaging than traps and pranks. Only Ichigo had managed to avoid capture the first time, and that was with Yoruichi helping him out. If Kaito managed the same feat, on his own, it would be a damn miracle.

"You're at my mercy right now. Would you prefer I kill you?" Kaito asked, trying for flippant and mentally cursing when it just came out weary.

(He was. He was so, _so_ weary of death and killing and trying to survive. Even killing Hollows no longer appealed to him the way it once had.)

(If everyone would just leave him _alone…_ )

Kuchiki's baleful glare turned thoughtful, Kaito's words cooling his ire. He scanned Kaito for a moment, then declared, "You can't. For whatever inane reason you've decided to invade—"

"Kuchiki Rukia-san is hardly an _inane reason_ ," Kaito bit out, right hand clenching around empty air. Ichigo was utterly still in his mind, poised on the cusp of violence, and Kaito struggled to keep his hand from going for his blade. "You disgust me. You have a family, a _sister_ , and you just… you just _throw her away_ the instant she no longer fits your narrow view of the world!"

Now that he knew even a _fraction_ of what family actually meant — now that he had his father, and his sensei, and Tsukabishi, and even Ururu and Jinta as younger siblings — now that he _knew_ what it was like… well. He wasn't any more pleased with Kuchiki's actions that Ichigo was.

"The law—"

"Screw the law!" Kaito shouted. He stalked closer to Kuchiki, Ichigo and Shiro's anger swelling to match and feed his own. His hands trembled with the urge to call his blades, to _rend_ Kuchiki to pieces until the man _learned his lesson_. "The law you follow is fuckin' _bullshit!_ Do Shinigami care so fuckin' _little_ fer yer damn family that tossin' 'em aside like _trash_ is jes' a fuckin' thing ya _do?!_ "

"It is a noble's duty to uphold—"

"No! It is a big brother's duty to _protect their siblings!_ " Ichigo forced himself forward and snarled. Shiro lunged for control, fury spiking, and slashed a hand through the air between them, wisps of black and emerald reiatsu clinging to his fingers and sharpening his nails. Kuchiki winced backwards, gaze turning wary, but his posture slowly relaxed when Kaito wrested back control and didn't make any further advances. "No. Enough. I'm not fuckin' sticking around to listen to any more of yer bullshit excuses — and that's all they are, excuses, not reasons! You can fuckin' sit here and mouth those empty excuses to yourself while waiting fer someone t'rescue yer ass, but I'm done. I hope you can live with your actions when everything is over, Kuchiki Byakuya, because family and familial trust is not so easily regained as you might hope it to be!"

Kaito clenched his jaw and stepped back, doing his best to cling to the shreds of his temper in the face of Shiro and Ichigo's continued rage. Zangetsu helped as best he could, shifting forward and letting his calm sweep through their mind. Kuchiki's attention remained fixed on him, wary and thoughtful and _suspicious_ , and Kaito just knew he'd — they'd — screwed up.

( _*So much for keeping you a secret,*_ ) Kaito snarled at Shiro. He glowered at Kuchiki once more, then darted away in a burst of shunpo. ( _*All of a single day, and the cat's out of the bag.*_ )

( ***Hey! Not my fuckin' fault that asshole's annoying!*** )

Ichigo sighed, remorse and awkwardness replacing the fury that had swamped them before. (*Sorry, Kaito. I didn't… I'll try to make sure we don't do that again.*)

Kaito sighed, stopping to rest on a roof and glowering down at the gleaming reiatsu-claws that were still covering his fingers. ( _*Nothing we can do about it. We'll just… have to hope that no one sensed anything, and that Kuchiki doesn't tell the rest of Seireitei on us.*_ )

(*Well… he didn't betray me last time, so maybe he won't this time either?*)

He really didn't have Ichigo's confidence in Kuchiki's nature; he doubted their secret would last longer than it took Kuchiki to be freed and report back. He was going to need to keep an ear out, to see if the order for him had changed from capture to kill on sight.

( ***How 'bout we fill his office with sommat while he's waitin' fer rescue?*** ) Shiro suggested, temper still simmering away.

( _*How about we not further provoke the Shinigami who holds my life in his hands?*_ ) Kaito muttered, poking at the reiatsu-claws curiously with his other hand. They felt solid, despite the active swirl of emerald and black reiatsu that made them up, and the wisps of escaping power that trailed after his movements. He knelt and tapped one against the roof-tile at his feet, arching an eyebrow as the point easily dug into the ceramic and left a divot. That was… more than he expected. ( _*Shiro, did you fucking turn a getsuga tenshou into claws?*_ )

Shiro shifted forward to share front for a moment, lifting their hand to peer at the claws, then shrugged. ( ***Eh, mebbe? I was pissed, an' y'weren't lettin' me use our blade, an' we were practicin' wit' doin' other shit this mornin', so…*** )

( _*We'll have to try this when we actually have some time to practice,*_ ) Kaito decided after a few more experiments that left shredded and damaged tiles in their wake. ( _*I don't know if we'll ever have a use for it—*_ )

( ***The fuck we won't,*** ) Shiro protested. ( ***C'mon, claws! An' I bet I can make em longer, too! Yer always worried 'bout fighting in small spaces wit' our blades, so… claws!*** )

(*It's not a bad idea?*) Ichigo offered, amusement creeping in around the lingering anger.

Kaito rolled his eyes and sighed. They weren't _wrong_ , but… ( _*You realize fighting with claws is different than hand-to-hand, right? That we're going to need to come up with yet another combat style?*_ )

( ***Aw, c'mon, how hard can it be?*** )

( _*I am going to tell Yoruichi-sensei you said that, and then I am going to sit back and watch her_ _ **laugh**_ _at you.*_ ) Not that Kaito knew how difficult it would end up being, either, but he really doubted that it would be as easy as Shiro was thinking. Still, as a last-ditch means of survival, a skill like this would undoubtedly be useful for something, even if it was just escape.

Still, he probably shouldn't be running around with _claws_ of all things, and Kaito gives up his experiments to focus on cutting loose the reiatsu forming them. The claws dissipate in a swirl of power that quickly fades, leaving his nails looking normal and human again.

( _*Breaks over,*_ ) Kaito said, rising to stand once more and glancing over the roofs around him. ( _*Let's make the Shinigami properly wary of their home, shall?*_ )

( ***Hey, wait a sec… Did ya… Aibo! Koneko-chan used a cat phrase!*** ) Shiro's gleeful laughter echoed through Kaito's head, followed by Ichigo's own amusement moments later. ( ***Knew y'would give into th'truth eventually! Cat outta the bag, hah!*** )

Kaito huffed in exasperation. ( _*Well, I know who just volunteered for lessons with sensei on our newest skill.*_ )

( ***Wh— hey! No fuckin' fair! Y'can't do that!*** )

( _*Can, will, am. Hope you enjoy fighting like a cat, Shiro!*_ )

Ichigo snickered as Shiro whined. (*You earned that one, Shiro.*)

( ***Aw, shaddup, Aibo. Meanies,*** ) Shiro grumbled at them. ( ***An' y'too, Old Man, stop chucklin' at me b'hind yer hand.*** )

Kaito shook his head, letting the amusement wash away the last of the anger. Still, it was time to continue on, to go back to trapping everything he could think of in Seireitei.

Couldn't let the Shinigami become too complacent, could he?

* * *

Night had fallen by the time Kaito finally gave up his efforts for the day.

He was tired, and hungry, and _lonely_. For all the bustle and mayhem of the Invasion so far, it wasn't enough for him to forget that he had no one but his spirits as backup.

(Maybe he should have stuck with the others— no. No, he couldn't have. To much depended upon the Shinigami being distracted, on not being able to spend time finding the other teens.)

(There was no other way.)

(Was there?)

Uncaring of the consequences, Kaito dropped down to the street in front of a food stand and slumped over on a stool a few seats down from the only other customer. "I'll have whatever they're having," Kaito said with a gesture towards the bowl the other patron was eating from. He didn't even _care_ what the Shinigami was eating; the scent of the food stand was _delicious_ , and he was hungry enough to eat anything put in front of him.

At his voice, the patron turned to look at him, their wide grin slowly fading away as the woman registered who was sitting a few seats down.

"Y—you…"

Kaito waved his right hand airily, not bothering to look at the Shinigami. He didn't recognize the voice, the woman hadn't been wearing a haori, and her reiatsu wasn't familiar; all in all, not a threat. "Don't worry about it. I'm just here for some food."

A noise that was equal parts frustration and dismay finally made Kaito look over, and he couldn't keep from arching an eyebrow as he actually took in the woman's appearance. Ink splatters covered her face and hands, and her hair was clumped together in awkward spikes that looked green under the lamplight.

Definitely someone who had run afoul of his pranks a time or two.

"I am too tired for this shit," she finally muttered, breaking eye contact and focusing back on her bowl of food. "This stand serves the best curry in Seireitei, and I'd really rather not piss off the owner, either."

"Truce?" Kaito offered with a faint grin, only to receive a baleful glare, an eye-roll, and a muttered agreement.

A bowl was set in front of him, and Kaito looked up at the woman who had set it there when she didn't remove her hand.

"Cause any trouble, and I'll personally gut you," she told him, her free hand held out. "Money, please."

Money was no hardship to hand over; he'd looted a few of the people he'd knocked out if they were higher ranking, along with lifting any money he found while trapping the various offices. He didn't really know the value of any of it — though Ichigo had at least a vague idea — so he just set the little bag of coins in her hand and gave her a cheerful grin.

She sighed in exasperation and tipped the bag over, spilling coins across the counter. With a pointed look at Kaito, she counted the coins aloud until she had the amount she wanted, then swept the rest back into the bag and handed it back. "Enjoy."

"Thank you," he told her, trying to cover both the brief lesson and the food. She waved away his thanks and turned away, leaving Kaito to tuck away the little bag and digging into the curry he'd bought. The Shinigami was right; it was some of the best curry he'd ever had, and Kaito resolved to come back once the invasion was over and things were peaceful again.

Kaito considered his next move as he ate. He'd left plenty of chaos in his wake, but hardly _enough_. Staying up to set up further pranks while the Shinigami slept was _tempting_ , but he knew his limits and he was starting to tread on the edge of it. If he'd gone into this invasion with more sleep, with more of a plan, with more _everything_ , he could have.

(This was his own failing. Just more proof that he _wasn't_ capable of surviving on his own.)

(He owed Urahara so much…)

He sighed and shook his head, pulling his thoughts back from that dark corner as best he could. There was no helping it. If he could find a place to rest, he _needed_ to.

Even if it would be hard. Aizen and Kurotsuchi's reiatsu _lingered_ throughout Seireitei; they weren't making an effort to hide themselves, and it put him on edge. Being so close to them, being able to _sense_ them, strained his control and made him want to lash out, to _purge_ them from Seireitei.

Before they could cause more harm to anyone Kaito cared about.

( _*We'll need to take_ _ **him**_ _out of the equation soon,*_ ) Kaito said, determination rising in his mind as he considered his own experiences in the invasion-that-was. ( _*I don't want Ishida to learn about his grandfather the same way I did.*_ )

(*Will you tell him..?*) Ichigo wondered.

Kaito didn't need to consider it for more than a moment. ( _*Of course. He deserves to know where his hatred should actually be focused. And he deserves to not find out by being taunted by the bastard who tortured his grandfather's soul.*_ ) Ichigo growled, protective and angered, and Kaito grimaced, tamping down on the rising urge to just deal with it _right now_. ( _*It's alright, Ichigo. It was… it's fine. Ishida won't have that experience. It's fine.*_ )

(*It's not,*) Ichigo muttered mutinously.

He could resist the fond smile that tugged at the edges of his lips. Ichigo's words didn't — couldn't — change anything, but… it was nice, to have his best friend's support. He almost wished he'd had the strength to speak of his encounter with Kurotsuchi after the invasion, instead of shouldering it on his own.

(Would it have changed anything? Would the fights in Hueco Mundo have changed at all? Would Ichigo have _lived_ if he spoke up?)

Kaito's mind dredged up the memory of Kurotsuchi taunting him, holding out pictures of torture like they meant nothing, telling him about the experiments he had run. His grandfather had been one of the last Quincy that the monster had experimented on, and Kaito wondered…

Kaito wondered how many others had fallen. Had been experimented on. Was there a woman who fit his story, stolen from the Rukongai and tortured to death, all in the name of 'science'? How many other Quincy had been lost because of one relentless monster?

(*Kaito…*)

He stared down at his almost empty bowl, the food sitting like a leaden weight in his stomach. ( _*I need to know.*_ )

( ***Ya really don't, Koneko,*** ) Shiro told him. ( ***Ain't gunna change anythin' at this point, t'go riflin' through tha' madman's stuff.*** )

( _*I agree,*_ ) Zangetsu said, pressing forward with his concern and dismay. ( _*There is no potential gain from such an action, and much potential harm. The madman performed unsanctioned torture in the false name of science, there is no reason to expose yourself to that.*_ )

( _*But…*_ ) Kaito hesitated, wavering. The thought of all the lives destroyed, all the names forgotten, it chewed at him. They were his people and he was one of the last; didn't that make them his responsibility?

( _*No,*_ ) Zangetsu told him firmly. ( _*Nothing about this is your fault, and nothing about this is your duty to clean up. Tell Ishida what he needs to know, but don't torture yourself in the process.*_ )

Was Zangetsu right? Kaito picked at his food and tried to come to terms with what his spirits were insisting on. Not being at fault didn't mean there wasn't _some_ responsibility there, even if only the responsibility of discovering their fates… didn't it? To just… ignore them… ignore what they'd gone through…

(Someone had to carry that burden, didn't they? Why not a Quincy?)

( _*This is not your responsibility,*_ ) Zangetsu said sadly. ( _*This is a failure of the Shinigami, and it is_ _ **t** **heir**_ _responsibility, not yours or Ishida's, to carry the burden of that failure.*_ )

Kaito set his chopsticks down and rubbed at his face, trying to process what Zangetsu was saying. ( _*They won't care, though.*_ )

( _*Some will. Some will not._ _ **That**_ _you can make an effort to change, by all means.*_ )

"Now you're starting to look like how I feel," the Shinigami said, expression wry.

Kaito yanked himself from his thoughts and gave her a suspicious look, wondering why she had spoken up. For lack of anything else to do with his hands, he picked up his chopsticks again to resume eating. His stomach still didn't entirely approve, but the food was delicious, and it certainly wasn't the cook's fault where his thoughts had gone. "I thought you were too tired for this."

"Eh, then you started looking like _that_." The Shinigami slid her empty bowl to the side and waved off the proprietor when she asked if she wanted more. "Look. I'm not _blind_ , okay? You're pretty nonviolent for a ryoka, and you helped Takara today. He's been struggling with shunpo since we got out of Academy a few months ago, and getting anyone to help us as newcomers is… difficult. Especially when we're in different divisions."

"I… see." No, he really didn't. Kaito had offered that advice to the other Shinigami at random. He hadn't actually _meant_ anything by it; the other — Takara, apparently? — had been struggling and Kaito had just _spoken_ without thought.

The Shinigami snorted in amusement. "Sure you do. You should consider picking up teaching at some point, I bet it would suit you."

"You don't know me."

"I know you helped Takara. I know all these traps you've set up are annoying and frustrating and mostly harmless." She shifted in her seat to face Kaito properly, expression serious. "Whatever it is you're here for, it's not to hurt us, is it?"

Kaito finished the last of his curry and nodded his thanks to the woman when she came to collect his bowl. "No. It isn't." There was no point in lying, not when he could have done so much worse with just the supplies he'd found.

(Zangetsu was terrifying when he wanted to be.)

"Didn't think so." She stood from her seat, glanced once at the woman behind the counter, then looked back at Kaito and said, "I'm Minami Yuuka, of the Seventh Division. If you need help, I'll do my best."

He blinked up at her, confused and uncertain.

(*See? The Shinigami like you just fine,*) Ichigo said.

"You'll get in trouble," Kaito felt the need to tell her. "That's… I'm a ryoka. You should be trying to catch me, not… not helping me."

She narrowed her eyes and rested one hand on her zanpakutou. "You let me worry about me. There's something going on, and I don't like what little I'm hearing. Helping you is the least I can do." Minami paused and gave him a considering look, before nodding sharply. "I'll talk with Takara and see what we can come up with. At the very least we can carry some extra food around with us; I doubt your mayhem is giving you time to find or make edible food."

"I made due today," Kaito answered with a faint smile.

"And how'd that work out?" Minami laughed. "Look, you don't have to come to us, but we're going to do it anyway. So if you see either of us, just know that we'll help with whatever we can." She didn't give him a chance to reply, just flashed him a smile and walked off.

( _*How is this my life?*_ ) Kaito wondered, standing from his seat and watching Minami walk away. He glanced over at the proprietor of the stand, only to see her working at cleaning and putting away the last few things. It was late, and getting later, and he still didn't know where in the world he could find a place to rest.

(*We can't get anywhere without help,*) Ichigo said with a shrug. (*Even I had help during the invasion from several Shinigami.*)

Kaito sighed and hopped back up onto the rooftops, staring around at the sweep of Seireitei and trying to decide which direction to move. He would give Zangetsu's words time to settle, and consider how to handle Kurotsuchi later.

(If Kurotsuchi would just politely lock himself away for the rest of the invasion, Kaito would be relieved.)

He gave Seireitei another considering look, then set off, aiming for one of the patches of greenery that dotted the outer edge. Most people avoided parks and recreational areas after dark, didn't they?

Maybe he could find a place to sleep around the edges of one.

* * *

Kaito slunk into yet another area of greenery, then immediately froze as nearly every reiatsu signature dulled to his senses. There was some sort of barrier that he had just crossed, and he had no idea if it was attached to an alarm or not.

The moon overhead provided barely enough light for him to pick his way through the landscape, as he attempted to figure out where he was. A barrier implied that this was a private residence, not simply another park; likely, the oddly shaped shadow in the distance was a house. Whether or not he was lucky enough that no one was around, he didn't know.

With a sigh, Kaito collapsed against a tree and leaned back, staring up at the canopy overhead. Presence of a Shinigami or not, this… this was probably the best place he could find tonight. The barrier dulled his awareness of the rest of Seireitei enough that it _finally_ didn't feel like Aizen or Kurotsuchi were stalking him. Maybe even enough that he could rest for more than a half hour before his anxiety reared its head once more and forced him to move on.

He didn't really recognize the reiatsu that lingered across the grounds, the traces too thin to spark more than a distant 'this is familiar' sensation. It was, however, a peaceful feeling, like they trusted whoever it was.

(A Captain, probably. Which meant that it was one of the Captains that he and Ichigo hadn't had much interaction with. Which meant it was one of the older ones.)

(He really hoped whoever it was wasn't home.)

( ***I'll keep an eye out, Koneko,*** ) Shiro offered. ( ***Don't need'ta sleep th'same way y'do.*** )

Kaito considered it for a moment; Shiro could keep watch even with their body asleep, lingering just below the surface and paying attention to the reiatsu around them. It did keep their body from slipping into the deepest parts of sleep, but anything was better than nothing at this point.

( _*Yeah. I… thank you, Shiro.*_ ) Kaito sat back up and peered at the moonlit plants around him, before finally settling on a clump of bushes as the best place to rest.

He wormed his way into the middle of the clump, dragging his bags behind him, and tried to ignore the way the branches caught and scratched at him as he passed. There was space in the center, if only just, and Kaito snapped some of the dead branches away to make a bit more space. A rolled up kimono from his bag to serve as a pillow, his father's haori as a makeshift blanket, and Kaito tried to get comfortable enough to sleep.

(He was lucky there were still months to go before winter.)

( ***Get some sleep,*** ) Shiro told him gruffly, giving him a mental tug. ( ***We're gunna need it fer t'morrow.*** )

(He just wanted everything to be over with already.)

(Was that too much to ask?)

* * *

 **Eeeh, yo, actually got something out in a decent amount of time? I swear I haven't been replaced with a pod person.**

 **I'm not wholly satisfied with this chapter, and I really feel like I could just... keep editing it and not be satisfied, but y'know what I'm tired of dealing with it. Here, have a chapter.**

 **I'm also starting to consider editing and posting a specific grouping of tumblr drabbles (the ones from the POV of the other teens during the invasion) as another side story, since... there is a lot going on in those drabbles and it gives another viewpoint on Kaito and how he's handling things. Well. It'll be a bit before I get anything edited to post.**

 **Til next time!**


	21. Shinigami Captains are Strange

Thank you, everyone! Also, for those who follow my tumblr, here's proof that I haven't forgotten DE in the midst of the current crack hilarity that's been happening there for the past week or two. =P

* * *

Kaito woke up stiff and uncomfortable and cold, clutching at his father's haori and curled into a tight ball that his muscles refused to unlock from. He wished he'd had the forethought to pack at least a blanket, but it hadn't occurred to him that he wouldn't be able to take shelter in various buildings the way he and Inoue had the first time.

(Aizen and Kurotsuchi's reiatsu scraped along his senses, like nails on a chalkboard. There was no sleeping with them around.)

Even here, under the wards that dulled his ability to sense the rest of Seireitei, Kaito remained on edge. Wards meant protection, meant someone's _home_ or _important place_ , and Kaito wasn't blind to reiatsu. The Shinigami was _here_ , _in residence_.

(Why had he been allowed to remain?)

Carefully, Kaito stretched out his limbs and wormed his way free of the bushes, already beginning to run plans through his mind. He needed something to eat and drink, he needed to restock some of his supplies, and he—

Kaito froze in a crouch, mouth dry and hands trembling, gaze fixed on a basket that _had not been there_ the previous night. He reached out, hoping, _praying_ that his senses were wrong. That there was _nothing_ sitting there. Or that he had simply overlooked it the previous night.

(Please let him have overlooked it. Please, kami, let him have overlooked it.)

( ***Eh, don** **'t worry 'bout it,*** ) Shiro said. ( ***Was jes tha** **' guy tha' gave Aibo th'badge. He's cool. Looked at us, then backed off.*** )

(*He means Ukitake-taicho,*) Ichigo clarified when Kaito felt nothing but confusion. (*The white-haired Captain with the cough.*)

( _*Shit,*_ ) Kaito breathed, as he edged closer to the basket and stared at it. ( _*You realize that doesn_ _'t make me feel_ _ **any better**_ _about this, right?*_ ) He cast a wary look towards the house in the distance, settled his blades back in place, then slowly stood and prowled around the basket, taking it in with all his senses. There didn't _seem_ to be anything off about it — besides being a _gift_ from an _enemy_ — but Ukitake was one of the Captains that his father had warned him about.

(Ukitake was _old._ Old and cunning and _dangerous_ under his mild persona. He'd survived things that younger Shinigami could barely comprehend.)

( _*If he wanted to capture or kill us, he could have done so while standing right before us,*_ ) Zangetsu offered.

Shiro made a disgusted noise, then sighed. ( ***Gotta admit, Koneko** **… I didn't sense 'im til he was already there. His reiatsu jes… wobbled 'r sommat, an' I could sense 'im, n'then I couldn't again, even though I was lookin' right at 'im.*** )

Kaito rubbed his clammy palms against his thighs, cast another wary look at the house in the distance, then gave in. He crouched down beside the basket, setting aside the stacked items resting atop it, and flipped open the lid.

( _*Why would he do this?*_ ) Kaito whined, staring down at the food carefully stacked within. His stomach rumbled hungrily at the sight, his mouth watering at the idea of food that he could take his time to eat. ( _*Why would he come out here and gift an enemy supplies? I don_ _'t understand!*_ )

(*He and Kyouraku did fight the Soutaicho during the execution. The two of them did something that destroyed the stand and then drew the old man away from everyone else to fight him,*) Ichigo said thoughtfully.

He considered that, then reluctantly nodded. The motivation made some sense, when put in those terms; it was no different than how he and Urahara had begun, with both of them having similar goals. Allies of necessity, Kaito figured, as he rose and paced around the patch of bushes and trees again, looking for anything else out of the ordinary.

Given that Shiro had been watching Ukitake when the Shinigami was right in front of them, Kaito doubted his secret was _actually_ a secret anymore, even if Kuchiki hadn't spilled it. That he hadn't been struck down then and there told him how desperate Ukitake likely was; why else assist a Hollow, after all?

It did mean that all the supplies were likely to be safe, however. Urahara had said Ukitake was dangerous, not that he was underhanded.

Kaito gave in and crouched next to the basket again, picking through it to determine what he could take with him and what he needed to eat soon. There was an inordinate amount of candy and other sweets in the basket, which left Kaito rather bemused; why candy? Was that what the Captain had on hand, or did he simply assume that Kaito would like candy because he was young?

(*Maybe both? I remember Toshiro complaining about Ukitake giving him baskets of candy all the time,*) Ichigo said.

He made a face and left most of the candy where it was in favor of the other items. He could eat those disgusting ration bars that Yoruichi had introduced him to if he wanted sweets, but he would much rather eat things that weren't likely to give him cavities. Of which there was plenty; Ukitake hadn't skimped on supplies at _all_ , and all of it was things he could eat on the go.

Kaito picked up a stuffed dumpling and began to eat, still sorting and cataloging the rest while making sure his stomach stopped protesting.

( ***What else** **'d th'guy leave us?*** ) Shiro asked, peering curiously through their eyes at the stack of things that had been sitting atop the basket. He reached out with their free hand and began to sort through the pile. ( ***Eh, lotsa blankets** **—** **'e think we were cold'r somethin'? — ooh, clean clothin'! An' some med stuff, bandages'n shit. Boooorin'!*** )

( _*But highly useful,*_ ) Zangetsu reminded them. ( _*Supplies like these are necessities, and spares are never without use.*_ )

Shiro grumbled but relented, retreating to allow Kaito to resume sorting through the food and begin to pack some of it away in his bag. It didn't take too long; much of it had already been properly packed away in the basket to begin with, so it was just a matter of transferring it into one of his bags. The other supplies were a bit more difficult to fit; Kaito had packed light, but blankets and clothing, even as light as the ones he had been given were, took up space.

Kaito spread his supplies out around him to get a better idea of what he had; there was so much, and he was reluctant to really part with any of it if he had his options. But he was already carrying two bags around. A basket was out of the question.

Clothing and medical supplies were a necessity; he packed everything medical and then his own clothes back into the bag first, then examined the outfits that Ukitake had left for him.

(*Huh. That's… I'm pretty certain that's outright treason,*) Ichigo said thoughtfully, as they eyed the Shinigami uniform the Captain had left. (*Not that he isn't already committing treason by not capturing us last night.*)

( _*Yeah_ _…*_ ) Kaito folded the outfit up and set it aside. ( _*But it_ _'s the difference between keeping us alive, and actively aiding our deception of the Shinigami. Neither would be viewed kindly by their laws, but to give us a uniform for his own Division…*_ ) Which would put him further into Ukitake's debt. On the one hand, it was a disguise willingly offered, and Kaito wasn't in a position to turn down any advantage he came across. On the other hand, it put Ukitake more at risk of censure, so what repayment did the man expect? ( _*We_ _'ll keep it, but I don't want to use it just yet.*_ )

The rest of the clothing was easier to sort; a spare kimono, a few pairs of clean tabi, a pair of fingerless gloves, and so on. The smaller things were easy to tuck away, along with two of the thinner blankets, but Kaito dithered over the kimono, fingers brushing over the fine cloth. It wasn't anything special, but it was _soft_ , the sort of thing Kaito could see wearing on a cold, rainy day while staying inside.

The sort of thing he couldn't justify wearing here.

With firm motions, Kaito folded the kimono up once more, and set it atop the stack of blankets he wasn't taking.

(There was no time for comfort or safety, here amongst his enemies.)

Packing mostly complete, he finished off the dumpling and rose to stretch, rolling his shoulders and trying to get the last lingering stiffness from his limbs.

Between the hard ground and the fear of discovery, Kaito felt like he was a half-wound clockwork figure, all stuttering movements and wavering steps. Stretching with the blades across his back was difficult, but Kaito didn't feel comfortable enough taking them back off; he felt far too exposed where he was, even with his blades in easy reach, and he really didn't want to risk a Shinigami seeing him materialize them from nothing.

( ***We** **'re bein' watched.*** ) Shiro drew closer to the surface again, wary and uneasy.

Kaito grimaced and peeked over his shoulder towards the house in the distance. ( _*I figured,*_ ) he admitted. ( _*I can_ _'t sense them, but…*_ )

There were two figures standing within view, bare outlines against the house, and the early morning sunlight was glinting off something that the two were passing between each other. Likely some form of telescope, Kaito figured grimly, so that they could spy on him without coming any closer. At least it meant that they were probably more _curious_ than anything; given who had approached him last night - and what Ichigo had told him about Ukitake - the second figure was likely Kyouraku, the _other_ Captain who had fought the Soutaicho in the previous timeline.

He hoped they didn't decide to approach him. Kaito tilted his head back and to the side, resting the side of his head against the hilt of Ichigo's blade, and forced himself to keep his breathing even. If they approached, he'd have to run. If he had to run, there was a chance he'd have to leave his supplies behind.

And then he would be at the mercy of whatever he could scavenge, in a military society becoming more and more alert with every hour that passed.

(Fighting the two Captains was out of the question. Whether or not he was actually capable of winning in a two-on-one combat against foes with hundreds of years of experience didn't matter; what mattered was that, in order to have a chance, he'd need to fight to _win_.)

(He'd need to fight to _kill._ )

Kaito resumed stretching, keeping himself to simpler forms that Urahara and Yoruichi had been teaching him, and avoiding the stretches his grandfather had taught him as a child. Those Captains were old enough to remember the Quincy.

The Captains finally turned away, satisfied with their spying, and Kaito breathed out a sigh of relief. He finished the stretch he was on then ran a hand through his hair, trying to smooth out the wild strands. At least he didn't feel quite so stiff and sore anymore.

But the sun was rising above the horizon, and he needed to leave the property _soon_ , before the streets of Seireitei were flooded by Shinigami once more.

He gathered up his bags, settled his hat back atop his head, glanced warily at Ukitake's house, took a bit more food to eat as he ran, then _bolted._

(He didn't plan to ever come back.)

* * *

The Shinigami were just as foolish and scattered as they had been the day before, Kaito found. Slipping into another barrack and laying traps was just as easy as it had been; what few guards had been set were barely worth the effort of taking out, and Kaito mostly left them alone if he could get away with it.

(They weren't at fault, here. They followed orders, and did their duties, and why bother striving to greatness when there were Captains who lived for centuries?)

He even spotted Minami once, her brown hair streaked with grassy green like he had suspected the night before. She seemed to be in a more cheerful mood, despite fresh ink stains on her face and how her uniform was stiff and soaked around the hems. The rest of her unit didn't seem to share her cheer, and Kaito had to bite back a laugh at the frustrated words being tossed back and forth.

Somehow reassured by the sight, Kaito left her to her patrol.

His good mood lasted barely long enough for Minami to leave his senses; most Shinigami stuck to the streets, leaving him unopposed on the rooftops, but there was a Shinigami on the roof a few buildings over, scanning the city intently.

Were they finally wising up?

Kaito grimaced and darted closer, relying on speed and stealth to approach the Shinigami before he was aware. There was something _familiar_ about him, about his appearance, that set Kaito's teeth on edge. He'd run into this Shinigami before, even if he couldn't remember the man's name.

(*Someone you fought last time?*)

He dropped into a crouch, swept the Shinigami's feet out from under him, and sent the man tumbling off the edge of the roof to the street below. ( _*Probably,*_ ) Kaito admitted, as he peered over the edge of the roof and took a closer look. ( _*Probably no one I was impressed by, either.*_ )

The Shinigami cursed heavily, pulling himself to his feet and brushing off his uniform. The beads around the man's neck drew Kaito's gaze.

(Rooftops and fighting. Arrogance and hatred. A cowardly foe attacking Inoue, a non-combatant.)

Kaito's lips thinned. He wasn't allowing this boastful idiot to go after Inoue. Not this time. Never again.

"Stuck around, did you?" the Shinigami snarled, spotting Kaito perched on the rooftop still. "I'll show you! Your cowardly strikes are worthless, now that I know where you are!"

(*Is this guy for real?*) Ichigo asked.

Kaito made a noise of agreement and leaned forward a bit more, arching an eyebrow mockingly at the Shinigami below. ( _*If I_ _'m remembering right, he went on a great big spiel about why he's the greatest and can't be beat. Something to do with his shikai being a bunch of blades he can control with his mind. I don't know, I shot them all down before he could do anything.*_ )

(*You… can't exactly do that this time, though.*)

( _*Maybe not,*_ ) Kaito said agreeably, for once not minding the limitation on his skill set. If he needed _any_ of his weapons against this Shinigami, then he needed a lot more training than he actually had. ( _*I_ _'m faster than before, though, and stronger, and, really, there's nothing stopping me from just taking him out while he's boasting. Or just moving too fast for him to keep up.*_ )

The Shinigami drew his blade with a flourish and began to rant, exclaiming about his greatness and his skill.

It was just as ridiculous as Kaito recalled.

(*You and I bantered a lot, but… we didn't give away stuff about our weapons like this, did we?*) Ichigo wondered incredulously, moving forward to take in the Shinigami with disbelief.

Kaito grimaced and flattened a hand against his thigh, wondering how to answer that. ( _*Uh.*_ )

(*Wait, did you…*)

( _*Maybe?*_ ) he answered sheepishly, listening with half an ear to the idiot's continued spiel while he thought back over the various battles he'd been in as Uryuu. ( _*But you did too!*_ ) Kaito quickly defended himself.

Ichigo paused for a moment, then reluctantly grumbled an agreement and subsided.

( _*We, uh, don_ _'t do that anymore? If that's any consolation?*_ ) Kaito attempted. ( _*And Kurosaki and Ishida don_ _'t… really do that either? That I know of?*_ )

( _*There is one distinct difference between yourselves and this Shinigami, however, that I feel you are both forgetting,*_ ) Zangetsu cut in, presence calm and reassuring. ( _*He is a trained warrior, who went through a military academy for several years, and who still participates in adolescent boasting.*_ )

Kaito bit back his instinct to protest that that meant _nothing_ ; if Urahara had managed to pound _anything_ into his skull, it was the difference between civilians and military. He and Ichigo _were_ just teens, _civilian_ teens, and it meant they lacked many lessons and habits that the Shinigami took for granted.

(A necessary cruelty, Urahara had admitted shamefully, gaze averted and fan creaking in his white-knuckled grip. Civilians didn't think or act how trained warriors did. They were unpredictable. Couple that with power and the element of surprise, and suddenly a group of teens had a whisper-thin chance to succeed against beings so much older.)

A bit of boasting, overconfidence in their skills, a surety of success… that was all things common to people his age, Kaito now understood.

(He was still guilty of some of that, wasn't he?)

(But not as bad as he was. Never again so bad as that.)

(Kami, let Kurosaki and Ishida grow out of this stage naturally.)

Kaito sighed as the Shinigami began to arc his reiatsu in order to release shikai. He shrugged. Darted forward. _Kicked._

The Shinigami _howled_ in pain, sword skittering down the street. He cradled his broken wrist against his chest.

"You talk too much," Kaito said absently, ducking a clumsy punch and kicking the man's legs out from under him. "All that talking. Do you know how many times I could have killed you during that?"

"Wh—who do you think you are?" The Shinigami struggled back to his feet, teeth bared and body stiff with fury. "Ryoka like yourself don't have any respect for the way a proper fight is supposed to go!"

Kaito blinked and pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the oncoming headache. ( _*How is this man still alive.*_ )

(*I doubt he gets sent anywhere, really,*) Ichigo said. (*If he does… I guess his squad is pretty good, then? Hollows… aren't really big on 'proper fights'.*)

"Oh, stop _struggling_ ," Kaito grumbled, swaying out of the path of another punch. The man was decent, but he telegraphed his moves constantly, especially with pain and fury clouding his reason. "How much did you bribe your instructors to let you graduate, anyway? I fought a fresh graduate yesterday that was better than this."

"I'll kill you for that insult!"

"No thank you," Kaito said. He leapt to the side and let the man stumble forward unopposed. Reiatsu pooled in his left hand, and Ichigo _moved_ , shifting forward to pull them out of danger once more.

Ichigo kept their body in motion, slipping in and out of reach, a silent taunt that kept the Shinigami's attention on the fight and not on the reiatsu gathering in their left hand.

The reiatsu fought, struggling to be free, but Kaito bent his will into forming what he _wanted_. He had no kido for this task, only the memory of how something _felt_ , and it was so, _so_ difficult to forge power into unfamiliar forms in the middle of combat. But it came, snapping and snarling and arcing tongues of lightning across his fingers and the back of his hand. It tingled like a waking limb, made Kaito want to shake it free, but it was _his:_ lightning, leashed to his will and ready to be used.

Ichigo retreated. Kaito surged forward.

He lunged. Darted past the Shinigami. Twisted around. _Slammed_ the pseudo-kido straight into the Shinigami's back. Sparks _danced_ across the man's body as he seized and fell, trembling uncontrollably and struggling for breath with lungs that weren't cooperating.

Kaito grimaced and knelt by the Shinigami's side, poking at his neck and pulling away some of the lightning-natured reiatsu that was still flooding the man's body. Killing wasn't his intention—

(Even if it had been, he wouldn't have left the man to _suffocate_.)

—and he made a mental note to _not_ try the lightning trick on anyone smaller or less powerful than this Shinigami. Not until he was more capable of control.

"You're lucky I don't actually want you dead," Kaito told the man coldly, as he rose from his crouch and looked around for the man's blade. Spotting it down the street, he hesitated. What _did_ he want to do with the Shinigami? His current weapons weren't precise enough to sever a Shinigami's connection to their powers, and he didn't dare attempt to use kido to do the same. The thought of touching the man's blade was _repulsive_ , especially out of the heat of combat.

(He was so tired of blood and death and the destruction of dreams.)

Still, this man wasn't like Takara or Minami; last time, he had attacked Inoue with intent to kill, bypassing the actual fighter in order to take her out. Letting someone like that free sat poorly in his mind.

Ichigo remained silent, a watchful presence in his mind as Kaito stalked towards the man's blade and stood over it.

(Blades could be remade. Will and determination and control.)

Kaito clenched his jaw, reinforced his legs, hardened his will, and _stomped_ on the blade as hard as he could. It — and the street below it — shattered like glass, fragments of paving stones and blade scattering—

(Cold silence. Rattle of pebbles. Bright moon- _dark sky-_ _ **lightning crackle**_ _—_ )

He staggered back, hand pressed against his heaving chest and head tipped back to stare up at the blue- _blue-_ _ **blue**_ sky. Ichigo and Shiro surged forward, strong and warm and _there_ in a way Kaito hadn't been fully aware of back then.

(This place was driving him to the brink.)

(*That should keep him out of our way for a couple days,*) Ichigo said with enforced calm, his presence draped across Kaito's awareness and blunting the edges of their body's reaction. (*Between a broken wrist and a broken blade, I don't think we'll need to worry too much about him for the rest of the invasion.*)

( _*I hope so.*_ ) Kaito wiped his sweaty palms on his kimono, hoping desperately that no one had seen that. A glance at the downed Shinigami reassured him slightly; the man was still lying flat in the same position Kaito had left him in. Kaito closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath, giving himself a moment to sink into Ichigo's support.

( ***Eh, c** **'mon, Koneko! We need'ta get movin' a'fore we're surrounded,*** ) Shiro nudged, words demanding but tone neutral.

He breathed out, tugged the brim of his hat down further, and stalked back to the Shinigami. ( _*Right.*_ ) Kaito stood over the Shinigami, scanning for signs that he'd done worse damage than he'd thought, but finding nothing more; the man's limbs were already steadying, his breathing ragged from pain but otherwise unhindered. "Come after me or mine, and I'll destroy you. And maybe think about not running your mouth so much. You make a pitiful Shinigami."

Gathering himself, he leapt back up onto the roof and looked around. No one else was in sight, though he could sense a few patrols wandering around nearby. Likely, the downed Shinigami would have help in the new few minutes.

Kaito straightened up and adjusted his bags. There were hours left before noon, and so many more things he needed to be doing.

(Nearly to the halfway point.)

(He could do this.)

* * *

In the middle of rigging another prank, Kaito froze, straining to hear whatever had caught his subconscious attention.

(*Get on the roof!*)

He didn't question. Just dropped the prank and leapt, crouching on the rooftop and warily scanning the streets around him.

(Where was the sound of _bells_ coming from?)

(*How the hell did he find us,*) Ichigo moaned.

Before Kaito could ask what Ichigo meant, a nearby wall _crumbled_ as a man smashed straight through it without pausing. Dust obscured his vision for a moment, and Kaito had to wonder: deliberate, or was there combat happening nearby that he couldn't sense?

(*It was absolutely deliberate.*)

Kaito choked back a laugh at the despair he could sense from Ichigo. As the dust settled to reveal Kenpachi and that tiny Shinigami child who was constantly clinging to him, Kaito leaned a bit further over the edge of the roof and tilted his head in question. "Do you usually cause property damage like that?" he couldn't resist asking, ignoring the way Ichigo sputtered in protest and began to sulk.

"Tch, they shouldn't make the streets so damn confusing, then," Kenpachi grumbled, stalking forward and eyeing Kaito thoughtfully. "You gunna stay up there, ryoka?"

"You going to keep chasing me?"

Kenpachi barked a laugh, bells chiming merrily as he started to pace back and forth below them. "Wasn't really chasing you, but now that I've found you…"

"Ken-chan likes to fight!" Yachiru pulled herself up a bit higher on Kenpachi's shoulder, and grinned cheerfully at Kaito. "This invasion's been fun, so of course he wants to fight one of you!"

"I don't know if you've noticed," Kaito told the pair dryly, "but I am a little busy causing mayhem and havoc all around Seireitei." He gestured towards the incomplete trap. "Fighting you wouldn't benefit me in the slightest."

Yachiru pouted. "Aww, come on! You can spare some time to fight! Those old geezers can wait."

Kaito blinked and ran the girl's words through his mind again, just to be sure he'd heard them right tho first time. "Aren't… aren't the two of you supposed to be in charge of one of the divisions? That's… that is what the haori means, isn't it?"

Kenpachi scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Only because the previous Kenpachi was a fuckin' idiot. So I killed him."

"You… killed a Captain. And they made you a Captain." Kaito paused, contemplated what that could possibly mean for him, and promptly discarded all dreams of murdering Kurotsuchi. He didn't hate himself _that_ much, after all. "What… how does that even make sense. Why in the _world_ _…_ "

"Eh, you get used to it," Kenpachi said with a shrug. "So, gunna come down here and fight, or do I gotta chase you down?"

Kaito eyed Kenpachi for a moment, then the hole in the wall that the man had gleefully made in his desire to move straight from point A to point B.

(*Don't you fucking dare! Kaito, you asshole!*) Ichigo shouted.

Shiro cackled and pushed forward gleefully, drowning out Ichigo's despair with his own anticipation. ( ***Oh man, this is gunna be fuckin** **' awesome! Tell me we get ta fight 'im, Koneko! I wanna 'nother go, properly!*** )

A smirk curled at the corners of his lips, and he tipped his hat up slightly to fix Kenpachi with a challenging look, knowing his eyes where gleaming with an edge of Shiro's battle-lust. "Catch me if you fuckin' can, pirate-man. Manage it before nightfall, and I might just give you that battle you want."

Kenpachi's dark laughter rang out, chasing Kaito as he turned and bolted from the scene. The man's reiatsu rose in acceptance of his challenge, wild and powerful and heavy with a battle-lust that equaled Shiro's own.

(*He's not going to stop, you know,*) Ichigo despaired. (*Even if you give him a good battle, he's still going to want another. And now that he's actually chasing you instead of running around blindly…*)

( _*Well, then I just need to not be caught, don_ _'t I?*_ ) Kaito said with amusement. ( _*Besides! This adds to the chaos!*_ )

Ichigo moaned. (*Zangetsu, please talk sense into him? Please?*)

( _*I am unsure what you want me to say,*_ ) Zangetsu spoke, tone laced with innocent confusion that none of them bought. ( _*Kaito is merely using the resources at hand to_ _—*_ )

(*Why me,*) Ichigo cut in, exasperation and resignation spreading through the mindscape. (*Shiro I expected, but you too, Old Man? Fine! I reserve the right to say 'I told you so'!*)

Kaito laughed, paused long enough to check on Kenpachi's position, then turned and darted in a different direction. With his reiatsu masked the way it was, he'd need to cycle back to Kenpachi every so often, to keep the man moving in almost the right direction.

He wasn't certain if he wanted to fight Kenpachi or not, no matter what he had promised, but… the idea was appealing. Kenpachi was powerful and wild, almost reminding him of Shiro. It would be interesting to see how he compared.

Ichigo groaned. (*I give up. You're all fucking nuts and I wash my hands of you.*)

( _*Hardly,*_ ) Kaito scoffed, examining the street below him for good spots to lay a trap. Finding nothing, he moved on. ( _*You enjoy a good fight just as much as the rest of us.*_ )

(*I don't go asking battle-mad _Captains_ to chase me down until they catch me!* )

Amused at Ichigo's denials, Kaito shook his head and smiled. ( _*Maybe not, but he did it anyway.*_ )

(*Ugh. Don't fucking remind me.*)

A small fountain in the middle of a square had Kaito pausing to consider what he could do. ( _*Well, maybe this will keep him from going after your past self?*_ ) Kaito offered absently, digging through his bag of supplies. He made a pleased noise upon finding a bottle of blue food coloring that was mostly full, and jumped down to the fountain to pour it in. ( _*Maybe I should have lifted some soap, too,*_ ) Kaito said, watching the blue dye swirl through the basin until the water was a cheerful water-blue like in art.

( ***Aww, man! That** **'d've been awesome!*** ) Shiro exclaimed at the thought. ( ***Can we? C** **'mon Koneko! Imagine th'chaos!*** )

Kaito laughed and leapt back to the rooftops, taking stock of his supplies. ( _*Well, I do need more things. So_ _… we'll see. I don't think they have liquid soap, though, so we'll have to figure out a way around that.*_ )

( ***Can ya melt it?*** )

( _*Maybe? I_ _'ve never done anything with soap…*_ ) He scanned the nearby reiatsu signatures, wondering if he was in danger at all; nothing stood out, however. Just a few patrols, some Shinigami that were probably seated officers, and lots of frustration and annoyance. ( _*Which division should we hit next?*_ )

(*We never trapped the Third at all,*) Ichigo suggested. (*We can't keep ignoring the divisions that the traitors belong to.*)

Kaito grimaced but had to concede the point. So far, he'd been studiously avoiding the three divisions that Ichigo knew had traitors in them, more to keep temptation away than anything else. If he saw one of the traitor Captains… he really didn't know how he would react.

Still, his reaction to anyone but Aizen would probably be safer than his reaction to Kurotsuchi.

( _*Alright, fine. Let_ _'s go make trouble for the traitors.*_ ) He closed his bag of supplies once more, mental list of things to steal completed, and then took off once more.

Hopefully the Third division was nearby… he really hadn't been paying attention.

Oh well.

* * *

Turned out, he was on the wrong side of Seireitei.

On the other hand, the Seventh division hadn't been hit yet either, and he didn't sense any high-ranked Shinigami lingering within the walls.

He leapt down from the roof and started to prowl through the grounds, heading towards where the supply rooms were usually kept. For all that Seireitei was in itself a maze, the divisions were relatively identical with only minor changes here and there. It was surprisingly easy to become accustomed to the layout.

Loud barking froze Kaito in his tracks. Was that… a dog? Someone had a dog?

(Shit. What if someone heard the barking?)

A dog raced around the corner and straight at him, barking constantly. Kaito took a step back, hand raising awkwardly; what was he supposed to _do_? Being chased away by a dog seemed ridiculous, but he didn't want to hurt the thing.

(*Feed it?*) Ichigo suggested.

Kaito hesitated, then darted away in a burst of shunpo before the dog could reach him. ( _*Good enough idea as any.*_ ) The kitchen was right where he expected, and the cold room had plenty of raw meat on hand. Hopefully bribery was a successful tactic on dogs.

Darting back to the courtyard, Kaito dropped the steaks he'd stolen near the dog, then lingered on the roof to watch as it sniffed the offerings. In no time at all, the meat had been devoured and the dog was staring up at him thoughtfully, head tilted and tongue lolling out the side of its mouth.

"Go on, shoo," Kaito told it, flicking a hand in a shooing motion. "Go… back to bed, or whatever it is you do when your owner isn't around."

(*Are you expecting it to talk back?*) Ichigo asked in amusement.

Kaito felt his cheeks heat up, but shook his head. ( _*No! Just_ _… dogs have commands, right? So… maybe I can… get it to go away?*_ )

(*Maybe it just wants to be pet?*)

( _*And maybe it_ _'ll bite my hand off if I try.*_ ) Kaito eyed the dog warily, then looked around the courtyard again. No Shinigami had come out to investigate just yet, so… maybe the dog just barked a lot? Or maybe none of them had heard it? ( _*Think I could just_ _… lock it in a room or something?*_ )

( _*So long as you let it back out before you leave,_ *) Zangetsu cautioned.

That made some sense. If the dog was roaming around free right now, even without its owner around, then it was probably used to going wherever it wanted. Locking it up for a short time should be okay, though, and it was a better option than trying to use kido on it. He didn't know if his control was good enough to capture a _dog_ without hurting it.

Mind made up, Kaito hopped back down, body tensed to bolt the moment the dog made an aggressive action. But it didn't, just happily trotted over to him and started to sniff.

"Well… come on, then?" Kaito spoke hesitantly, moving towards the barracks. The dog happily trotted after him, moving fast enough to catch up and bump into Kaito's leg. "Uh… you… want to be pet?" Cautiously, he reached out and ran a hand over the dog's head, fingers sinking into the plush fur.

The dog leaned into him and knocked Kaito back a step before he could brace himself correctly.

(*I think it likes you,*) Ichigo said.

Kaito snorted and reluctantly pulled his hand back with a final pat on the dog's head. He'd never… pets had never been something he was allowed to have. The closest he'd ever come was having Yoruichi around, and her allowing him to pet her if he wasn't feeling well. Maybe… maybe he should ask his father if he could get something? Most of what they sold was wrapped or packaged somehow, so it wasn't like fur could get into most of the candy if the animal got into the shop area.

(No. He… keeping a pet around was probably a bad idea. He didn't have the time for one, anyway. They were difficult to care for, weren't they?)

"Alright, enough, come on," Kaito told the dog as he started to walk, keeping an eye out for a room to put the dog in so it didn't get in his way any more. He'd need to tailor his pranks a bit in this division. Things that for sure wouldn't harm a dog if it got caught in one.

The first few rooms he poked his head into were offices with nowhere that looked comfortable for the dog to rest, so Kaito ignored them. The next office, however, was a larger one, and there was a pile of blankets and cushions along one wall.

"Your owner is the Captain, huh?" Kaito said, eyeing the office. Well… he could switch the furniture around a bit, that would be safe enough. "Go to you bed?"

The dog just stared up at him, still leaning into his side with its tail wagging. Giving up on ordering the dog around — either he didn't know the right commands, or the dog didn't have any — Kaito stepped into the office and began shuffling everything around. It was difficult, working around the dog, but it didn't take him very long to get things rearranged.

That done, he went to leave the room, needing to push the dog back inside the office when it tried to keep following him. The door slid closed before the dog could escape, and Kaito just hoped that it wouldn't try to break through the sliding door. Hopefully it was trained at least that much, right?

"No, sorry," Kaito murmured, grimacing at the pitiful whines the dog was making. "I can't have you following me around the entire time." It was hard to pull himself away, but he couldn't afford to stay or to allow the dog to continue following him around. "I'll come let you out after I'm done," Kaito promised. Hopefully he wasn't chased away before that point, either.

But if he was, then the dog would probably be let out soon after, anyway. It wasn't like he had actually _hurt_ the animal.

(Damnit, he was being weak. He couldn't _afford_ to be weak. Not now.)

Kaito squared his shoulders and _bolted_. He had to get this division done _quickly_ , so he could leave it behind and not _think_ about the fact that a Captain kept such a friendly dog around the barracks.

(Did any other Shinigami keep pets? If he looked, would he find cats and dogs and rabbits and other such animals scattered around, loved and cared for and kept safe?)

(It didn't matter. It _didn_ _'t_. He had a task to do _right now_ , and it wasn't like he was being violent.)

(Any pets would be fine.)

He swept through the division, raiding the storage room and kitchen in record time. While a pot of colored agar started to set in the kitchen, Kaito scattered traps and pranks around; he dumped food dye in some wash-water where uniforms were soaking, switched some offices around, blocked doors with containers, and all sorts of other messy, chaotic pranks that wouldn't hurt the dog if it got into them.

Returning to the kitchen and his pot of agar, Kaito set to making his little agar packets. It was a bit easier this time, but by no means _clean_ ; his hands ended up sticky and tinged red by the time he had everything sorted out and he needed to take a moment to wash them off before he could continue.

( _*I think that_ _'s everything,*_ ) Kaito said as he packed away the agar bombs and scanned the rest of the kitchen. ( _*Besides lifting some food*_ ) Not that there was much available that he could just eat right away, outside of some bread. Everything else that he could see required preparation and time, so… bread and some of what Ukitake had given him it was.

(*Don't forget the dog,*) Ichigo reminded him.

Kaito hummed in agreement, tearing off a piece of a loaf to eat as he stepped out of the kitchen and tucking the rest away in his bag of supplies. ( _*Of course not.*_ ) He scanned the division once more, satisfied that he was still mostly alone, and made his way back to the Captain's office.

The dog wasn't whining at the door anymore when he approached, but it _was_ waiting on the other side when Kaito slid the door open. With a happy bark it leapt up and lunged at him before he could react, setting it's paws on his chest and _licking_ his face.

Kaito sputtered and shoved the dog away, wiping at his face with a sleeve. "You are ridiculous," he told the dog as it circled him. "Does your owner let you do that to them? Or are you just taking advantage of a stranger?"

Glancing around at the empty courtyard once more, Kaito knelt to pet the dog again, sinking his fingers into the animal's fur and smiling faintly at the way it so clearly enjoyed the attention. He could afford to take a moment, surely. Even Shiro seemed pleased with the idea, moving forward to briefly press their head against the dog's before joining Kaito in petting it.

(Maybe he _should_ ask if he could get a pet? This was… it was relaxing. And nice.)

(Urahara would probably say no, though.)

(Probably better if he just didn't, then.)

"I see Goro has made a new friend."

Kaito startled to his feet, twisting around and staring up in _shock-dismay-_ _ **fear**_ at the armored _giant_ who had approached when none of them had been paying attention. His gaze latched onto the signature haori and he swallowed nervously.

(Why did this always happen to him?)

"Uh," Kaito scrambled for words, even as he scrambled for _space_. He retreated along the covered porch, yelping as the dog — Goro — got in his way and he tripped. Kaito caught himself on the railing, cast another glance at the Captain who was just _standing there_ , and tried again. "He's very… nice?"

"Thank you," the Captain replied, a touch of humor in his words. "I suppose I should expect my division to be laden with the same sort of chaos the rest of Seireitei is experiencing?"

"Uhm… y-eees?" Kaito warily answered, hand lifting to tug at his hat and using the motion to hide his scan of the area. This _had_ to be a trap— yes, there. That was the Lieutenant, trying to creep up on him while the Captain distracted him. "Nothing that would hurt, uh… Goro, was it? Uhm. He might… get some dye on him, I guess? If he gets into those traps. But, uh… it should just… wear off? Eventually?"

"That's good to know. I thank you for the consideration."

Kaito grimaced and shrugged, carefully gathering himself to flee at the exact right moment. "He's a dog. It's… this whole mess has nothing to do with him."

The Lieutenant lunged for him, coming around the corner and clearly intent on capture. Kaito just flashed the man a grin and flickered away in his fastest shunpo.

The Lieutenant cursed and slid to a stop. "Sorry, Captain."

"We knew he was fast," the Captain replied, helmeted head tilting to look over at where Kaito had landed, perched atop the roof just within hearing distance. "And now we know a bit more than we did before. So, come, let us attempt to clear out our division before any of our men fall prey to his antics."

"Just letting me go?" Kaito murmured, head tilted to the side and brows furrowed. "I… guess I shouldn't complain, but…"

(*I didn't have much to do with this Captain,*) Ichigo admitted, as they turned and left the Seventh behind. (*Sorry, I can't really be much help.*)

Kaito smiled. ( _*Don_ _'t worry about it, Ichigo. It's fine. I don't expect you to know everything about the Captains.*_ ) Whatever reason the Captain had for letting him go, he wasn't going to get answers by himself. If he still cared when all this mess was over, he'd have to ask the man then.

A brief check on Kenpachi's position let him know he'd need to head back towards the man soon; he was going in almost the opposite direction, and Kaito was certain that the teens were currently over there. Better to keep Kenpachi's attention as much as possible.

(*We should eat first,*) Ichigo reminded him.

( ***Yeah! Can** **'t do shit iffen we're hungry an' tired!*** )

They were right, Kaito had to admit. A few mouthfuls of bread wasn't nearly enough to fill his stomach after all the running he'd been doing since he woke up. With that in mind, Kaito trapped the nearby area, then settled on one of the roofs and opened his bag to pull out food.

( _*I don_ _'t think we're doing too badly, are we?*_ ) Kaito asked while pulling apart the bread and starting to eat.

Ichigo hummed thoughtfully, considering the things they'd done. (*I think it's going about as well as we could expect. I haven't heard anything about the others. Shiro?*)

( ***Nah, I ain** **'t heard shit. Course, we ain't really been stoppin' t'question anyone.*** )

Zangetsu clearly agreed, based on the emotions Kaito could sense from him. ( _*We should think about finding one of those two Shinigami we spoke with yesterday. Minami did offer their assistance, after all,*_ ) Zangetsu suggested. ( _*Ignoring a potential resource like that will only hurt us in the long run.*_ )

Kaito grimaced, even if he had to reluctantly agree. He truly didn't want to get them involved any more than they already were, but… it _was_ less risky to speak with them than it was to attempt to rely on the good nature of the Captains. ( _*I guess. It would be nice to have some confirmation of what the others are up to. I can sense them, but_ _…*_ )

(*But it's not the same,*) Ichigo agreed softly. (*We're all worried about them, I think. I just hope us playing bait like this is helping them.*)

( _*Yes. Only a few more days to go.*_ ) Kaito brushed crumbs from his hands, then picked something that Ukitake had given him and continued to eat. ( _*I haven_ _'t sensed_ _ **him**_ _moving around much. Just to and from the First every so often.*_ )

(*When did you fight him, anyway?*) Ichigo asked. (*I don't remember if you ever said.*)

Kaito sighed and leaned back on the roof, propping himself up on one arm and trying to relax while he ate, despite the topic. ( _*I don_ _'t think I did, no. We fought the night before the execution, so tomorrow evening we'll need to be even more alert.*_ )

Ichigo considered that for a moment, then spoke slowly, (*At least… at least Ishida won't lose his powers like you did, even if… even if the worst happens. It's… it's not much consolation, but it's something, right?*)

( _*Losing my powers_ _… didn't help at all, no,*_ ) Kaito agreed. He forced himself to finish his food, despite it tasting like ash, then rubbed at his forehead. He needed to find something to drink soon, since he hadn't packed more than a thermos for water and that needed to be refilled. ( _*Still_ _…*_ )

(*Yeah…*)

( ***Heads up!*** )

Kaito startled at Shiro's cry, sitting up abruptly and finally registering what Shiro had noticed out of their peripheral vision.

 _Unohana_ was walking down the street below, hands tucked away in her long sleeves and that peaceful little smile on her face that didn't fool Kaito _at all_.

(He'd seen her. Felt her resolve. Watched her cow Kurotsuchi with a few words and a look.)

She was the best Healer in Soul Society, and Kaito had _felt_ her power under his skin. She had the control and determination to take him apart in a heartbeat if she wanted to. He felt like a hare before the fox, sitting perfectly still on the roof and watching her approach.

Unohana kept walking as if she didn't have a care in the world, ignoring his presence and the presence of traps scattered around her. She just… stepped around them. Dodging their triggers without even acknowledging their existence.

Until her foot snagged one of the trip-lines.

She paused, looking down at what had caught her foot—

Kaito couldn't suppress a whimper, eyes glued to the other half of the trap—

The agar and ink mixture _splashed_ across her head, coating her hair and dripping down her body, leaving colorful stains in its wake.

Unohana lifted her head, gaze focusing on Kaito, and _smiled._

Kaito grabbed his bags and fled.

(Oh, kami, he was going to _die!_ )

* * *

Sorry not sorry, Kaito! Hahahahahaha.

Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! Also, I know that Shiba Inu don't reeeeaally bark all that much, but I'm going with the idea that Goro is a mutt and inherited barky habits from his non-Shiba Inu parent. Seeya next time!


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